Red velvet
by Paper Ballerina
Summary: Katherine is sent as a spy into Farquaad's household as he competes for the dukedom of Duloc after the sudden death of their king.Months later,she becomes passionately devoted to him. Can she tell him about her feelings or is he blinded by his ambition?
1. Chapter 1

~~* Katherine's pov *~~

I sat in a quiet contentment sewing the night shaft that my uncle's cat had taken great pride in destroying with his little claws. The little claws tore apart the thin fabric in several large gashes before I caught the little bugger. To my left my great warrior-like uncle; lord Nottingham, sat writing invitations to his friends, patrons and supporters no doubt for a meeting or a ball. My uncle is a very great man, he went from being a humble foot soldier to being elevated to a lord by King Duncan (god rest his soul) his loyalty and bravery earned him a small fortune and now a claim to the throne. He hunches over the desk so that his nose stops merely meters away from the wet ink, his nostrils flare as he breathes in the sour smell seemingly enjoying it. He takes care as he writes and spreads the ink elegantly across the letters. I shake my head at his care, while he seems to enjoy writing and reading, I can think of nothing duller. I pull the thin thread through the fabric with small movements of my arm while the house elf holds the spool obediently, while my uncle takes great care to write his letters, I in turn take great care to mend his night shaft.

Outside my uncle's office there is a small commotion followed by the entrance of my uncle's messenger. The scrawny boy marched uneasily towards my uncle's desk. His matchstick legs struggled to support his thin panting frame as they stumbled onwards. In turn every limp jerked violently as he moved forwards until he stood before the desk.

'My lord Nottingham' he said breathlessly addressing my uncle and giving him a bow, he surprisingly managed this with grace. My uncle looked up before nodding; the messenger turned to me and gave a quick nod which I then returned. The boy could only have been fifteen, panting and coughing from running here. While catching his breath he looked around the room with small amazement. The room was small with a domed stone roof, on the wall on the left hand side was three tall windows looking out onto the courtyard while the rest of the walls where lined with bookcases filled with tattered and old books. The messenger looked towards my uncle gravely, the moonlight from the windows lining the wrinkles on his face. I watched closely from position in the corner, affairs of state were certainly not a woman's business but they certainly entertained me. My uncle looked up at the boy expectantly, his sliver eyes piercing the skeletal figure.

'Grievous tiding my lord, our spies in Farquaad's home have been discovered and arrested. We have no new news about the lord's activities. 'The messenger said quietly and without eye contact. I felt my own mouth open in disbelieve uncertain if I heard that correctly. My uncle tenses and dismisses the boy with a sudden back handed wave that sliced through the air like a knife. The sudden movement makes me wince and accidently prick myself with the needle. My eye's remain on my lord uncle, inspecting him very closely to see what he will do. He broods and looks out on to the moon filled courtyard, chewing on his lip as his thoughts race. My uncle has fought in many battles, making him a well respected and admired man in Duloc, so admired that when the good king Duncan died he was one of three men elected to run for Dukedom of Duloc. I have to admit that is impressive that a family of soldiers and peasants could rise to rule Duloc. However that is even further away now, as my uncles spies have been removed from his competition's household. Watching his dream crumble before him breaks my heart not to mention worries me. He is old and suffers pains in his chest under too much strain; this blow cannot be good for him.

"My lord uncle, if there is anything I can do to be of assistance? I will do it. Even if it means destroying that wicked Farquaad with my own hands, I will do it' I say gently from the corner of the room. My lord uncle gives me a kind smile from his strained face; while the gesture was there his eyes were blank. I walked across the room and planted a tender kiss on his balding head. His skin like almost like leather toughened by his hard life unlike Farquaad's, not that I would know. In all honesty I know nothing about this Lord Farquaad, other than I hate him for opposing my uncle. Looking back on it, it seems a bit bizarre that I hated someone for no reason other than I was expected to. My uncle took my hand and patted it, gazing up at me with that same kind smile before his face fell. "What is it lord uncle?" I ask falling to my knees at his side. Was he having another attack? Was he giving up? Was he dying? I look expectantly at the elf. It stood perfectly still, dumb, deaf and blind to anyone around it. I felt a flare of annoyance that the bloody stupid elf, if my uncle should die then the elf was to hang for it.

"There may be a way you can help..." he said quietly, avoiding all eye contact with me. Intrigued I shuffle forwards, forgetting to take care with my skirts. He moves towards his desk and hands me a piece of paper and a pot of ink. I sneered at the very thought of writing but made no effort to upset him and obediently awaited further instruction. He flashed that smile at me and begun again. "You will write to Farquaad. In your letter you must ask, beg if you must, to gain a wardship" My mouth fell open again as I felt tears well in my eyes again. I know my uncle was ill, but dying? My lip trembled at the very thought.

"It cannot be so! You can't die and leave me with this _man_!?' I sobbed miserably. My family's enemy couldn't be trusted with my life; it was madness to even think of such a thing. My uncle Nottingham gave me a disgusted, as if ashamed by my display of affection. I recoil slightly and stop the tears from leaving my eyes as he continued to look at me so loathsomely.

I'm not dying you stupid girl, I'm pretending too." He said wisely looking back towards the courtyard. I know that my face must have shown terrible confusion for when he turned back toward me he laughed. It was an ugly sound in the silent night. "If Farquaad thinks I'm dying then he will think he's won the dukedom and stop working as hard to win the votes of the people. Then I will return triumphantly and the dukedom will be mine. Understand?". I nodded mindlessly, slowly coming to terms with my uncle's deceit as the tears dried up. But then I suddenly remembered the most important part of his plan.

"And what of me?" I asked staring up at him. Had he forgotten that he was handing me to his enemy? What of my fate? What of my happiness? I looked up at him waiting for the answers. He gave another little chuckle at my expense and rose my chin up so that he could look at me properly. As uncomfortable as it was, the warmth of his hand under my chin was welcomed. He gave me a long silent expectation of my features before he let go of my chin and sat back in his chair. I in return gave him an icy look, suddenly sorry that I had ever offered my help and suddenly angry that he had used my concern for his health as a weapon to get me to do his bidding.

"You will go to the lord's household and be his ward. He will no doubt accept your plea that your "uncle maybe dying and you'll be penniless", also you're a pretty girl that will affect his judgement. Once you arrive you will kept a close eye on the lord and report back to me" My uncle said finally before turning back to his work, calmer than a few minutes ago and much more satisfied. I sat in shock before my temper got the better of me. The same fearless temper my mother shared.

"So I am to be your spy?" I spat venomously as I rose before him. He gave me a warning glance. That dangerously controlled but deadly look from those copper eyes. I rushed out of the room before I said something I would regret, I was absolutely livid but I was no fool. Should anything happen to my uncle I would inherit all his belongings and titles and I did well to remember that. Regardless of this fact, once I was in my room I exploded casting flowers from vases and books across the room. However mad I was I knew that my uncle controlled my fate. I was his spy and slave and there was nothing I could do about it.

~~*&*~~

The wind whipped my carriage as it tottered about the stony gravel road, tossing it back and forth like a bottle cast out at sea. My uncle dispatched the letter shortly after I had retired to my room and when I woke this mourning my belongings where already packed. My uncle made sure I looked my best and dressed me in a very pale blue silk dress that played against my chocolate hair and pale skin perfectly. Admittedly I am always ill; I attract illness like a flower attracts butterflies. Luckily for my uncle I was in good health for my trip (unlucky for me though). I had to travel from one side of Duloc to another. Against better judgement all of the opposing lords had taken up royal residences far away from the city centre, meaning I had to travel for at least five hours to arrive at lord Farquuad's household. This did nothing for my mood, if anything it worsened. As the foul weather outside worsened I was jostled about more making me more irritable. Before long the carriage stopped suddenly and I was allowed to disembark.

I got out the carriage wearily then looked out at the household. In contrast to my uncle small manor, Farquuad had claimed the seemingly biggest castle outside of Duloc city centre. The castle was huge and shockingly sparklingly clean, I resisted the urge to touch the stone work despite the sparkly temptation. With the help of the couchmen I was guided into the giant castle as my belongings gathered up outside. Inside the castle was as equally impressive with overly garish tapestries and paintings hanging over the walls. The only downside was the lack of light. Despite its expensive decorations it looked like a dungeon. I felt dishearten by this place, how would I make a dungeon homely? Before I had time to think I heard a merry but haughty voice ring down the hallways. I straightened myself up expecting to come face to face with this Farquaad, but then I heard the coachmen snicker.

"You won't want to do that love" one tittered behind a gloved hand. I dispelled the comment by flicking my glossy hair over my shoulder and into his face. I may have been low born but I was raised like a lady and would not be spoken to like that by a coachman. The voice came closer and closer until I seen a group of men walk towards me. They were talking about some notable people but I didn't catch most of what they were saying, I was already failing my uncle. The men stopped silent before me and I gave them collectively a deep bow. From inside the crowd I heard a noise of recognition; finally I was going to come face to face with my guardian. I moved my hair from my face so I could get a clear view of the lord, watching as the men moved and parted from the group and then I saw him. I finally saw lord Farquaad. I finally understood the jokes and the teases. I stared at his little legs, then his strangely very muscular torso and then his handsome face. By the time i had reached his face I realised it was silent in the room. Quickly I bowed deeper before the lord, feeling somehow obliged to become shorter than him. He gave another loud laugh.

"Can you believe she is related to lord Nottingham? Why he is a loud mouthed opinionated fool and this girl is a field mouse! Can you speak field mouse?" lord Farquaad asked in his upper class drawl, mocking her before his guests. I remained bowing before him, uncertain what to do and partially humiliated. I gazed up at him, fixing my emerald eyes on him as I thought of an answer. He seemed slightly unnerved by my gaze.

"Indeed I can my lord. " I answered with a smile before standing back up. Farquaad turned to his guests and made a gesture that caused them to laugh. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment as my temper rose slightly but I never let either affect my pretty face or outward appearance. I stood silently before this group of intimidating men with all the grace I could muster hoping my humiliation wouldn't take much longer.

"what can I say" Farquaad said over the laughter, smiling contently as he gathered the limelight " I could not turn this poor girl away, not when her uncle is sick" he chuckled before the group of men erupted again, laughing at my uncle's frailty. I smirked to myself, this cruel men where to get a nasty surprise soon enough. "You may go to your room now. Jane has it prepared for you. Jane!" he called amongst the laughter.

Jane was heavy set woman in her late thirties. Her wispy strawberry blonde hair was pulled back under a dirty cap with only traces of it poking out at the start of her neck. Jane waddled towards me and led me to my room while the men continued to make jokes about my family. I was humiliated by this repulsive little man. Little being the perfect word for him. He also had an air of arrogance about him that made me sneer. While I was led to my room, Jane chatted pleasantly and tried to reassure me. I had to thank her for her efforts despite not listening to most of what she was saying. After what seemed like a life time we reached my room. It was plain with only a wardrobe, mirror table and a bed but at least it had a window. I didn't care that the view was of the sudden rain and bleak valleys at least there was natural light in the room.

"You'll be alright pet. It'll become your home once your belongings are placed in here. I know it's hard at first but you'll see you'll call this place home in no time" Jane rambled on as I glided to my bed. She was a kindly woman with open features whom I immediately warmed to.

"Thank you" I said sombrely as I watched her leave the room leaving me alone in this strange place. In all my life I had never been truly alone until now. It's a daunting thought at first, to know that you are away from loved ones and even trusted people. That was worsened by the fact that my last living relative cares nothing about me. I walked toward my window looking out of the dull view, ignoring the movement of my belongs being paced in the room. I wanted to ignore everyone and ignore what was happening. I tried so hard to do that until someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around curious to see why someone was disturbing me. It was Jane.

"My lord Farquaad wishes for you to join him for dinner this evening" Jane said in her foghorn voice while trying to be quiet. I smiled faintly and nodded accepting the offer but then shuddered. I knew that it was going to take all my penitence and strength to get through this meal while out ringing his scrawny little neck.

* * *

AN: Yeah the first chap changes rest of the chaps won't i promise and also the other chaps are in more detail i had so much to get a across and i wanted to get the ocs over with cuz no one really cares about them do they? lol. R & R dudes it makes me write quicker and suggested are always welcome. Flame if you want, that's normally helpful too lol


	2. Chapter 2

_An: thanks for the reviews givelove1morechance and hanny spoon!_

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Even though my first impression of Lord Farquaad was not exactly pleasant and even though I was a in a foul mood I still dressed for dinner. Jane of course helped with the stomacher and my hair, still chatting pleasantly while doing so. Perhaps it was Jane's doing but I felt my mood brighten as she brushed my long curling brown hair. However one thing I noticed was wrong with the household; the lack of fairy tale creatures. Most grand household's lowly servants were house elves, dwarves, goblins (that's if you can train them mind you) and other bizarre or ugly creatures. Yet Lord Farquaad's household had no fairy tale creatures at all or at least from what I've seen. This was curious.

"There. " Jane said with a satisfied sigh letting my long hair settle around my shoulders. "All pretty for the Lord." She said running her chubby little fingers through the bristles of my hair brush in an almost thoughtful manor. I forced a pleasant smile, secretly revolted by the thought of the lord's company. I knew my uncle would want me to look pretty, I was representing the family after all .With this in mind I choose a satin baby pink dress for dinner that made even me, blush at how pretty I looked. Pink by far was my best suited colour. In my heart I knew this dinner had to go well, if the lord hated me then it might mean I was have to return to my uncle in disgrace. I hated my uncle for how he had treated me recently but I did not want to disappoint him.

"Thank you, Jane" I said looking at myself in the mirror, pulling faces and looking at every inch of my face. Its odd how vanity takes over so quickly and completely when you look at your own reflection. I heard the door click shut as I twirled before the reflective glass, catching glances between locks of brown hair. I suddenly stopped, after realising something. I raced towards the door and out into the hall.

"Jane?" I called clutching the door handle and peering out into the hallway. She was half way down the bland and darkened hallway but turned to face me .I had to admit she looked so small in contrast to the tall and long hallway, _how would Farquaad compare?_ I wondered. Her face softened upon looking at me, providing a warm smile in contrast to the eerie surroundings.

"Yes my lady?" Jane asked genteelly. I smiled weakly before checking the hallway. It was empty apart from us, I gestured for her to return to my room. I had almost forgotten what I was here for. As she walked into my room, I closed the door quietly and flashed her a nervous smile. She seemed undisturbed by my beckoning as she stood before me, perfectly straight. I paused for effect as the kindly woman stood waiting, before giving her another uncertain and nervous smile.

"Jane?" I asked meekly before toying with a lock of hair. "Who were those men I saw earlier, the ones speaking to the lord Farquaad?" I said quietly remembering the last spy's unknown fate. Jane smiled at me, amused by the rosy colour that I forced on my cheeks. To her I must have like a lost and frightened child, someone in need of care and educating in the ways of Farquaad's habits, household and company. How could any man pull off that sense of vulnerability? I thought with considerable haughtiness.

"Well my lady. The men you saw where the lord's close friends, most of which were mere knights, intellectuals I believe one many have been a messenger from lord Uther brother of King Harold I believe..." Jane said casually and almost without thought. Maybe she needed someone to gossip with after all? I flashed her a relived smile, even going so far to sort my hair embarrassedly. "Will that be my all, my lady?" Jane asked. I gave her a relived smile and sigh.

"Thank you Jane, I admit I only wanted to know so I didn't embarrass Lord Farquaad in front of his guests. I'm not as informed as my uncle or the lord you see, and I thought I might say something inappropriate" I said with all honesty laced in my false reasoning. Jane gave me and understanding nod and even went so far as to pat me on the shoulder. This small act of kindness made me seize up in surprise; I hadn't expected it nor prepared for it. I could feel the clammy sweat from her chubby little hand through the satin of my dress, making me inwardly shrink from the touch. Was it guilt that made me shudder with dread under the warm hand or shock that she'd show such an informal gesture so soon?

"No worries lass" she said, finally removing the hand from my shoulder. I sighed with relief once I was free again and watched as she walked towards the door somewhat like a lazy fat cat. "The lord's guests won't be there. It'll just be you and the lord" she said, like a P.S on an unpleasant note before closing the door behind her.

I could hear Jane's heavy footsteps travelling down the hallway. I stood silently musing over what she said, thinking of everything the lord might say. Was he going to interrogate me? Was he trying to see if I was a spy or not or was he just going to taunt me and my uncle's "ill" health? I needed to snap out of it. I was a sensible girl and a proud one, I needed to think clearly. If I let my nerves show, the lord would never reveal anything to me, he wouldn't consider me as an equal. I walked over to the mirror table and picked up a bottle of perfume, lavender, and sprayed myself with it. The sweet smell coated my skin and also helped to clear my head. I let my nerves slip away; I had to be as sweet as the smell and as charming as can be. I knew I was a pretty girl, I hoped I could pass on that.

~~*&*~~

It was not Jane that came to collect me that night, rather some man. He was perfectly normal and well dressed in the lord's livery of blue and white, he ignored me completely but at least he looked nice. I was grateful he never spoke to me; I doubted I could muster any sympathy or information from him. The castle was oddly silent, not even a servant was at work as we made our way through out the dark hallways, the man walked briskly followed by my slow small footsteps. Even though he never spoke directly to me, he slowed his pace for me several times either from kindness or irritation. He led me down the main stair case and then to a small plain wooden door, that was nestled in the dark corner of yet another hallway. As I approached the door I could the bright but gentle flickering of candles from the gap between the frame and the door itself. _At these it wasn't some dungeon_, I thought with a contented smirk but as a side note I remember that it main contain a monster after all. You may find my words to the lord harsh, but do remember I had been raised to hate the man. The man opened the door for me, assaulting my eyes with the bright candle light from the ballroom.

"You are to await the lord in there." the man said gruffly, like the snort of a boar while holding the door open for me, I gave him a grateful nod before entering the room. As I walked past him he loudly inhaled my perfume causing me to shudder at the even more boorish noise. I started to wonder if Farquaad had turned the fairy tale servants into people or if this man just had the mannerisms of a pig. Regardless I gave the man a sideways disgusted glance before proceeding into the ballroom.

The ballroom was bathed in a soft light from the many candles that seemed to grow like wild flowers from the cracks in the walls, it gave it a warm and surprisingly welcoming feeling to the room. The room was moderate in size and in reasonable condition. Apparently the castle had been attacked years ago and this very room took the brunt of the attacks, causing the roof to crack, and the walls to bear holes from arrows and cannons fired from just outside the walls. The roof was cracked and its pretty picture of fairies and nymphs had been defaced violently, almost scornfully. The floor was marble and was extremely clean making me feel almost ashamed to stand on it, surprisingly it had survived the assault with only a few minor chips on its sparkling face. In the centre of the room was a small oak table covered by an embroidered white silk clothe with two chairs at opposite ends of the table. I noted that there wasn't much room between the chairs. Secretly I had hoped there would be a huge table so that we were miles apart; however that was not the case. I walked over slowly and gracefully towards my chair, just in case someone was watching. As I pulled out my chair I felt a sudden rush of childish curiosity. I looked in both directions before proceeding to pull the chair out, I could not see anyone. I quickly peered under the table towards lord Farquaad's chair. I had to see if it was padded or not, or had a pillow to boost him up. As silly as it sounds, I'm sure anyone would have done the same. The chair had an enlarged pillow place on the seat to assist the lord. The mixture of how absurd and how adorable the scene was almost proved too much for me, as I tried to smother my laughter behind my lavender coated hands. Slowly I started to calm down again, still having a few laughing spasms as I tried to control my breathing. If anything terrible were to happen to me, at least I had the chance to laugh at the lord's expense at least once.

Behind me I could hear the high pitched clinking of spurs against the stone floor, the murmur of voices followed the loud bang of the wooden door. I could hear the lord's laugh, that haughty cackle echoing into the quiet and lovely ballroom as I sat, perfectly still in my chair. I waited until the laughter subsided and I heard the small wooden door creak closed before I got up and gave the lord a low curtsey, keeping my eyes downcast to the shining floor. The floor looked like still water, it was that reflective and clear. From the floor's reflection I watched the lord closely. He gave me a long drawn stare before purposefully circling me in order to get to his own padded chair. I felt my muscles tightened as the silence grew thicker, and the lord's observation of me grow longer. But I stood with my knees bent and my head down, staying in a curtsey position until the lord sat himself down, and that I didn't dare watch from my marble mirror. I knew that if I watched the lord scramble upon his chair I would laugh and therefore endanger myself and my uncle. Somehow the lord managed to climb the chair and pillow that followed and sat expectantly awaiting me to join him. With another bend of my knee I gave him another curtsey before sliding unto my chair. The lord Farquaad continued to look at me with a distant amusement but remained silent before clearing his throat. _Perhaps he was not so bold as he was when he had an audience_? I thought smugly, looking at the polished surface of the table that lay exposed where the cloth had run short.

"How do you find my castle Mistress Nottingham? As grand as your uncles?" he said proudly while testing my loyalty. I could tell by the mischievous spark that lit up his eyes that he was testing me, to see how far he can use me against my uncle. This little game made me smirk; I raised my eyes from the table to look directly at him. It was a challenging look hide under long lashes and a soft smile.

"My lord, I am humbled. Not only by the kindness have you shown to my plight but also by the grandeur of your home." I said sweetly from the opposite side of the table, once more down casting my eyes as a sign of modesty. The lord gave a half hearted laugh still refusing to take his eyes off me. I took this as him trying sizing me up and see anything odd about me. The lord clicked his fingers to summon a servant to bring out two goblets of ale. I sipped my ale as soon as it was handed to me before placing it down onto the table. The lord still sat with an amused smile on his face, toying with his raven hair with one hand and holding his goblet with the other, his blue eyes focused on me unrelentingly. I found it unnerving to say the least. At last he placed his goblet down with a loud thud onto the table, causing me to look up at him in alarm. For a few moments we looked directly at each other. Lord Farquaad was not as repulsive as I had been told, quite the opposite actually. He had chiselled features and a strong jaw and brilliantly blue topaz eyes.

"Grandeur? Mistress Nottingham this will not be considered grand once I become king of Duloc. This will be a lowly manor home for a lowly lord, it will not compare to what I have in store for Duloc. "Lord Faquaad said with self important smile before drinking his ale. I gave a soft scoff, he had guts to say a thing like that or he was a fool. The servants served a rabbit stew and followed by a small dish of hardened fairy wings. I felt slightly more at ease with the lord than I thought I would. He was a chance taker, so much like my uncle and I had to admire him for that. "But let us not talk about the future. How fares your lord uncle?" Farquaad said between mouthfuls of the stew. I pated my mouth dry and looked sombre. I wanted to be the very image of vulnerability.

"He is growing weaker and thinner .He is old and his physicians fear for his health mightily, they say... he may not see the end of the year..." I said hesitating at the last part. Of course should anything happen to my Uncle I would be devastated and lost and left permanently in Farquaad's care; he was after all my guardian. I thought I saw compassion cross his face but if it was it was fleeting before his jaw set.

"One does not need _family_. If anything should happen to your uncle you should be thankful you'd inherit his title and lands" Farquaad said in a low growl, spitting the word "family" out like a foul taste. He stopped looking at me, while he mused and pouted over what ever had caused the venom in his voice. I sat calmly and silent watching the tiny lord before me, as his muscles tensed and his breathing changed. I suddenly felt the need to comfort him, despite him being a complete stranger to me. "Won't last the year out so they say?" he said after the long silence turning back to face me. The look in his eyes was much gentler this time; it was not as though he was staring at me anymore but looking. Whatever had caused the outburst had taken some of the fight out of him.

"So they say my lord" I said, suddenly uncomfortable in the slight change in the lord. I knew I couldn't think of him as a person, he was an enemy for god sake! I forced myself to get up, this time making him stare in alarm. "Forgive me, my lord, I would like permission to return to my room? " I asked standing before him. Had I been closer I would have been towering over him. He was generally surprised by my request but agreed with a nod before he started to laugh a chesty titter. "My lord?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. The laughter faded out but the wide smile dimples remained.

"I was just thinking" He started before sliding down of his little pillow and chair, dusting down his red velvet shirt and hose and looking up at me. The top of his head could only have reached my rib cage; I looked down at the lord. "That you cannot honestly be related to the old dying fool" he said with a wicked smirk on his face, _was he purposefully being cruel now or was he always this vulgar?_ I found myself thinking. I sucked air into my lungs and held my head high. The lord chuckled at me as I tried to remain calm, doing all I could not to strike him. He knew that he had enraged me by insulting my uncle and he seemed to enjoy my caged up rage. To add further insult to injury the lord swaggered toward me and took my hand in his and with the most gentleness he could muster gave my hand a kiss. I was taken aback. Part of me wanted to blush at the gesture and the other wanted to back hand him. How dare he insult me then think to touch me? I was enraged but too shocked to do anything about it. "Goodnight Mistress field mouse" he said before walking away, chuckling at his triumph.

~~*&*~~

As I readied for bed with Jane's help of course, I brooded over the day's events. I hated the lord Farquaad, I always had so why did I feel so comfortable in his company and why did I make observations about the colour of his eyes? I was still mildly angry and confused over the matter. He was a foul little man, and deserved to lose the crown to my uncle. But why did I keep touching the hand that he kissed with the same amount of care and gentleness as he showed? I even smelt my hand. Lacing through the strong scent of lavender was a manly odour of rich spices, seeming to prove the lord had at least had a physical effect on me. I inhaled the odour without any thought in a bid to be transported to a different mindset, one where I was not so confused. I stopped inhaling and even held my hand as far from my face as possible. Jane ignored me and handed me a night shaft before leaving the room. I knew that I must surely be acting silly. He was the first man I have ever had none supervised contact with and who was not related, no wonder I was confused about how I felt. It must be teenaged lust, surely, why else would the lord have _any_ effect on me at all?


	3. Chapter 3

_An: thanks for the reviews guys! You going to see a somewhat smaller but familiar face in this chap :P, and yes, lord Farquaad probably will need Botox after this story lol_

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I sat on the stool of my mirror table gazing out of the window, catching up on my embroidery. The weather outside was bleak but with faint sunlight spread lightly over the countryside, promising good weather in the forth coming days. I was now content after last night's confusion. I knew it must have been the ale or the loneliness that drove me to feel anything for the lord. After all I was now isolated from the life I had know and forced to spend time with a man, that in itself would have driven any teenage girl to comparing his eyes to topaz. I felt embarrassed about the whole affair if I was honest, but I was not even honest anymore. My uncle's desire for the dukedom of Duloc had driven me to become a liar and a spy. No matter, if it pleased my uncle that would satisfy me.

Suddenly and without warning Lord Farquaad burst into the room. The noise in itself made me spin on the stool to face him, shocked at his audacity and rudeness. He seemed flustered and a little breathless as he entered the room. _It was probably opening that door that tired him out, it IS after all three times his height _I thought darkly as I recovered from the shock. I sat staring expectantly at the little lord as he walked slowly towards the centre of the room. The Lord leaned over while recovering his breath; meanwhile I ignored him and returned to my embroidery. He did not deserve any attention for his rudeness, even if it was his household.

"Gentlemen do not barge into lady's rooms without permission, my lord" I said with new founded braveness I then suddenly realised what I had said and instantly regretted it. Just as I panicked about the impact that statement could have made I began to see a smile forming as he sorted his breathing; I seemed to have pleased the lord. I smiled triumphantly in response; I had finally done something right. But I was finding it was a constant juggling act which at any point could fail spectacularly. I returned to my embroidery swiftly as the lord straightened, finally catching his breath. I gave him a sideways glance, still expecting an explanation for his sudden entrance.

"Mistress Nottingham, you must come with me. It is rather urgent" he said caught his reflection in the mirror behind me. I rolled my eyes while the lord gave himself an ego boosting inspection, before tossing his shiny hair melodramatically. I remained firmly seated; Lord Farquaad still had not explained what was urgent. His gaze returned to me expectantly. I looked into his eyes, returning the stare. Why did I have to look into them? Oh bloody hell I'll admit they do look like blue topaz! I sighed inwardly at my apparent lack of resolve. He crossed his arms impatiently, and gave me an irritated pout. "Mistress Nottingham why aren't you moving?" he asked with an edge to his voice.

"My lord, you haven't instructed me to do anything other than to go with you. If you lead then I will follow. What is so urgent my lord?" I said sweetly, getting up and standing before him. The pout left his face but a small hint of irritation was still there. It made me very happy to see I had upset the lord after how he treated me. It may seem childish but it gave me great satisfaction. He rolled his eyes at me this time, somehow feeling it beneath him to explain anything to me. He sighed giving into my little demand.

"Lord Uther, on behalf of his brother; King Harold, wishes to make trade arrangements between Duloc and Far Far Away" he said slowly making sure it was sinking in. Whether he thought I was a village idiot or not, it did not matter at least he was revealing things to me now .Although, I did not see where I was coming into this plan, I let him carry on waiting to see how it appealed to me, eagerly listening. "I cannot have you here alone. What kind of host would that make me out to be? Besides Lord Uther has an eye for beauty" Lord Farquaad said smugly with a smirk planted on his face and his hands on his hips. I merely shrugged; I was starting to grow used to being a pawn for powerful men. I decided it was in my best interests and my uncles to follow the pint sized lord. Silently I walked out of the room into the despairingly dark and bare hallway. I felt a chill run up my spine as I followed lord Farquaad down the hallway. It may have been a bad omen and I did make me hesitate, but since when did omens stop ambition? Despite the bad feeling I was experiencing I carried on.

~~*&*~~

It felt good to be outside as we approached the stables. I loved the outdoors with its clean air and warm sun and even though the sky was grey and the sun had to fight to be seen, I noted the lord Farquaad didn't share my enthusiasm. I stood eagerly looking for my carriage, expecting something rather nice or regal. As I stood dumbly looking for a carriage I saw the lord Farquaad being "assisted" (or rather picked up under the arms and plopped down) onto his white stallion. I did not bat any eyelid at him; I expected him to do something to make himself look much more grander and manlier than he was.

"Mistress Field mouse?" he said sighed looking down his nose at me from his high saddle. I glanced at him as he addressed me in that degrading manner, but did not utter a sound at him. He adjusted his black leather riding gloves before holding the reins again. "Why are you not saddling up? Can you not ride?" he asked with genuine interest. I raised my eyebrows; he couldn't possibly expect me to ride to wherever this lord Uther was?

"I can my lord. But you do not expect me to ride there?" I asked. My voice lined with disbelief. I heard the lord give a amused chuckle that I knew meant I was going to have a sore arse by tomorrow. The lord clicked his fingers to summon a stable hand and a horse. It was a lovely and gentle chestnut mare. "Thank you my lord "I said with a curtsy in his direction before being helped onto the saddle. I arranged my skirts and legs to the side of the horse, taking care to try and not to hits is barrel like ribs .

"It appears you shall be riding after all, mistress Nottingham" the lord said charismatically as he trotted towards me. I shuffled uncomfortably as he approached before looking away from him. Behind him a few of the men I had seen yesterday were saddling up along with some servants. My eyes flickered back onto the lord; he was expecting me with his eyes again.

"Ladies should not have to ride like this my lord" I said finally showing my irritation, he gave me a smirk and a soft chuckle. I was beginning to think I only served to amuse him. He moved his horse forward until they were nearly touching before leaning towards me. I could see that mischievous spark in his brilliantly blue eyes and I knew I was going to be insulted somehow. He was like a child that would say a bad word just to get a reaction, like he thrived from the attention, even if it was negative.

"Beg my pardon mistress Nottingham, but I see no "ladies" here." He said quietly. My pride swelled as I sat up in my saddle, turning away from him. I heard him scoff before telling his train to move onwards. I rode before him but he quickly caught up with me as we left the courtyard of the castle. I ignored his advances and remained determined to look forwards. The insult nagged and gnawed at my resolve, burying its prickly and unpleasant little body under my skin. Maybe it was my reaction or maybe the lord realised how rude his comment was but he changed his attitude towards me. He went from being cocky and arrogant to be somewhat sombre and a bit more detached. "You are low born are you not, mistress Nottingham?" the lord asked riding parallel to me. I flicked my long glossy hair over my shoulder, keeping my focus before me.

"I am, my lord" I confessed shamelessly. My father was a foot soldier, along with my uncle, for King Duncan. After some terrible and bloody battle they were both knighted and after a while of long service my uncle was given a lordship. My father was not. However my father was an honourable man and served the aging king for no reward. During the battle of Gelderan (the battle my uncle was awarded a lordship after) my father was gravely injured and failing fast. In his confusion (from lack of blood I suppose) he stumbled aimlessly and further away from the battlefield, until he came upon a small farm. There he saw my beautiful mother, picking berries. With raven hair and rose bud lips, she cast a spell over my father was looks alone. He remained smitten for the rest of his life. My mother was a mere farm girl but she mended his wounds and found herself in love with the bloodied solider as she did so. After the battle, they soon married. So in truth his assumption was not in corrected, but it hurt my pride never-the-less.

"Well you certainly do not act like it. I've never seen such a haughty peasant" the lord said sitting up in his saddle, pulling at the creaking reins to direct his stead. I found myself laughing at his jest. Was he insulting me further or was he trying to clear the air? Whatever the case I found my laugh strange. The sound was so pure and actually honest, in contrast to the lord's common and patronizing scoffs. Despite my displeasure about the noise I had just uttered, I looked to the lord, who sat smiling at my giggle. His smiling made me smile all the more, it was almost infectious.

"I was raised as a lady, one day I will be a lady. So why should I not act like a lady?" I answered with a sweet smile before stirring my horse onwards before the lord could respond, laughing over my shoulder as I did so.

~~*&*~~

Lord Uther Pendragon had set up camp for meeting with lord Farquuad. The camp contained a banquet tent where we would be fed and entertained and several others including a very basic privy tent. The camp was set up in a small valley between three hills, shaded by tall aged oaks descending down the hillsides. The lord Uther's tents were the traditional green coulor of Far far away; it made them look as though they grew out of the ground and were just meant to be in this clearing. I admit I was impressed by Lord Uther's efforts for Lord Farquaad's arrival, as I looked over one of the three small hills along with most of lord Farquaad's train.

"Close your mouth, mistress Nottingham. You'll catch a fly and be rendered mute and that _would_ be a shame now wouldn't it? The lord said playfully mocking me as he caught up with me. I rolled my eyes at his comment but continued to look down at the camp. I knew I must remember every detail for my uncle and report back soon, having alliances with other kingdoms would greatly benefit Farquaad's chances. The lord Farquaad made his way down the hill slowly as myself and the rest of his train followed obediently. The closer we got to the bottom, the more people came to greet us all dressed in King Harold's green livery. Two of the lord Farquaad's servants raced down to help the lord unsaddle, rather clumsily I might add, before I saw lord Farquaad awkwardly but warmly embracing an older looking man in fine clothing. The man was muscular despite his swollen and large belly drooping under his tight belt. The man was of middle age with greying hair and deep set wrinkles, but was pampered in his apparel of fine velvets in deep royal purples.

I and several of lord Farquaad's servants arrived at the foot of the hill moments after the lord embraced this man. I was helped down by one of his servants, a young fair haired and handsome boy about my own age. He genteelly held me by my small waist and lowered me to the ground.

"Thank you sir...." I stumbled embarrassed about what to call this helpful young man. He flashed me a toothy smile, before shyly running his hand through his curly mass of golden hair.

"Stefan Wilmot, milady" he said blushing under heavy locks of golden hair. I smiled back at him finding myself blushing, heavily. He was a lovely charming boy-

"Mistress Nottingham?" Lord Farquaad called over the crowds, as I could only see the little gloved hand beckoning me. I made my excuse to Stefan and headed towards the lord. Reeling from the embarrassment and strange new founded fondness I held for Stefan. I walked through the crowd without great difficulty before I came to Lord Farquaad and the well dressed man.

"My lord" I said giving him and his friend a bow. The well dressed man gave lord Farquaad a knowing look before giving me a bow.

"You have a pretty ward, my lord. Tell me are all young ladies in Duloc as pretty? "The man said to lord Farquaad, tuning away from me. I felt a bit rejected but remained silent, observing all I could.

"They are indeed pretty my lord Uther, but have no comparison to the beauty of the women of Far far away or your lovely queen" lord Farquaad gushed toward lord Uther. _So that's lord Uther!_ I thought was sudden interest. Other than the apparent social graces, I didn't know what to make of their relationship. I could not tell how this meeting would affect Farquaad's chances of the dukedom of Duloc yet. I suddenly noticed how deep inside my own thoughts I was when I caught lord Uther gave me a distasteful look.

"Do you think it wise to have women medalling in politics my lord?" Lord Uther said with sneer. I saw Lord Farquaad stumble on his words as he thought of a satisfying answer, the wheels in his mind racing behind those blue eyes. Lord Uther stood inspecting me while waiting on the lord's response.

"She is my ward. I thought it would be a good idea to have her here, in case conversation ran dry and you wanted something pretty to look at my lord" Lord Farquaad said masking his uncertainty with his charisma. Lord Uther remained stony faced before erupting into a hearty laughter and patting lord Farquaad on the back. I was relived he bought this excuse but then looked venomously at lord Farquaad. My emerald eyes fixed with a look of anger washing over them. Lord Farquaad shuffled uneasily under my glare of contempt. But when lord Uther looked back at me, I smiled sweetly as if I enjoyed the jest as well with a warm look in my eye.

"James, women are useless unless for marriage and bearing children. That's why my daughters are not here and my son is. Arthur!" Lord Uther bellowed while continuing to pat lord Farquaad's back, almost knocking him over. James Farquaad? Who would have guessed? I chuckled inwardly. As we stood in our little huddle, I saw a pale oval face peering out from behind the banquet tent's door before the scrawny and lanky figure of boy came uneasily towards us. The boy was six years old, a decade younger than myself with straw like hair and a sad little face. Despite being only six, he rivalled lord Farquaad for height.

"Milady, my lord "he whispered, giving me and lord farquaad shy bows before standing behind his father for protection. He was not a brash and loud as his father, he was a quiet and gentle little boy. I smiled feeling motherly over the little lad. I saw that lord Farquuad was not impressed by the little boy for he gave him a disgusted look before turning back into conversation with lord Uther. Little Arthur suddenly looked so frighten when he saw his father ignoring him, it was horrible.

"Arthur?" I asked gently, bowing down so I was at his level. He looked at me with wide green eyes and a trembling lip; it made me smile but not cruelly. "I would really like to see the horse you rode on. I bet it's a great big stallion, would you like to show me?" I said with a pleasant smile. Arthur thought about it but then hastily nodded then took my hand and leading me towards where the horses where tethered up. I found myself laughing as the little boy excitedly told me about his journey and his horse. I knew I was sacrificing important information but if it made the little boy fret less than it was worth it.

I saw Stefan brushing my mare's mane as Arthur pulled me towards his horse. Stefan gave me a polite bow and a small smile and I returned that favour before coming face to face with a horse's backside as Arthur told me that it was his favourite horse. It was nice to see the shy little boy acting like a child. I pretended to ask the horse questions and then pretended to answer them all for the little boy's amusement. I even heard Stefan laughing at how idiotic I must have sounded. So as I made a fool out of myself, me, Stefan and young Arthur laughed like old friends. That is until lord Farquaad appeared and the laughter and foolishness stopped.

"Your father wishes a word, Mr Pendragon" he said giving a disinterested glance at the boy before resting his eyes on me. Arthur gave me and Stefan a warm smile before running past the lord, seeking out his father. I noticed Stefan got straight back to work as the lord approached me. I felt saddened by the change in atmosphere but never commented on it. Farquaad picked up on my feelings, which for him is uncharacteristic.

"Have I offended you mistress Nottingham?" he said suddenly concerned for my well being. This struck me as odd. Very odd.

"No, my lord" I said intrigued by his concern. He gave me a yet another warm soft smile.

"Good. I do not want to be the cause of a frown on that pretty brow" he said gently which I found odder still, considering he had so far enjoyed insulting me. "Come along, the banquet will be starting soon and I should not want to attended alone. Good heavens! What would happen if the conversation ran dry?" he said flashing me a wicked and triumphant smile. I was relieved he was back to insulting me, so I gave him a smile and merry little laugh and followed him towards the banquet tent. Grudgingly and slowly I was beginning to like the lord after all.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: _thanks for the reviews guys, because you've been so supportive I do intend to have characters named after you appearing soon. The only reason this is so short and has taken so long is I just started school again and I've been so busy with my highers. Better chaps coming soon!_

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The banquet tent was appropriately and cleverly dressed. The walls were made from thin green fabric letting the sunlight stream in, coating everything in a green taint. Instead of giving the banquet tent a floor, they left the soft green grass as the flooring. They had also interwoven flowers and vines into the chairs, under table legs and around the wooden goblets, and spread flower petals of over the horse shoe shaped table. It was a cheap but clever idea, I had to give lord Uther that, he had made a tent into some wondrous fairy banquet hall. Lord Uther sat at the main table in a large moss covered throne, with small fair haired Arthur at his right hand side in a small plain chair. The chairs may have symbolised their characters, Uther being grand and higher than most and Arthur being lowly and plain, either that or I was too observant. I noted at the two side tables, Lord Farquaad's friends sat to his right (once he was seated that is) and Uther's friends sat to his right, opposing each other like rivals. Arthur looked uncomfortable besides the big, burly, loud men, so he sat toyed with the table cloth nervously. I flashed him a sympathetic smile, as I followed my little lord towards the main table. Arthur gave me a cheeky toothless smile as if we were sharing an inside joke. As Arthur sat to Uther's right, I did so with lord Farquaad. I took my seat as lord Farquuad was lowered down into his seat by a servant. Everyone kept straight faced in the room while this happened, whither it was contrived or genuine I could not say. I looked to my right at lord Farquaad's friends, looking for something to gain information. None looked like they were likely to betray the lord easily; none looked like they had a bad history either. I bit my lip as I thought of what to do. I looked back to lord Farquaad and lord Uther. I had to wonder why the king of Far far away had not attended in person. Perhaps they did not take the lord's claim seriously, or maybe Uther had come here against his brother's will? Endless and more farfetched ideas could have came into my mind had I not noticed the food brought before me. A lovely plate of smoked talking (or rather they weren't talking anymore) fish from the river around isle Avalon.

I watched lord Uther greedily devour the fish in a matter of seconds before he proceeded to lick the foil salty taste from between his chubby little fingers. It made my stomach churn uneasily and I found my food repugnant in my mouth as I watched in applauded fascination. I found myself liking king Harold's brother to a great fat toad, as I watched his thick pink tongue snake its way around his heavily ringed fingers. I felt someone tap my left shoulder as I openly stared at the toad like lord.

"It's rude to stare, mistress Field mouse." Lord Farquaad whispered, into my ear as I continued to stare. I was about to reply when lord Uther looked back at me. I knew I had been caught, and so did Farquaad. He sat quietly, watching to see what I would do. I knew a smirk was waiting to grow over his face; he sat in anticipation waiting for my response to lord Uther's confused and slightly suspicious look. Now was my chance to help my uncle, I could feel it. I had noticed Uther's love of finery; I would use that to my advantage.

"I was just saying to my lord Farquaad, that that is a divine ring adorning your index finger. Garnet is it not? "I said with a sudden interest in those well licked digits. Lord Uther peered down at his glittering fingers (from the rings not the saliva I'm happy to say) and then gave me a smug smile before a slow nod. I exclaimed happily before looking at Farquaad. He had a puzzled expression on his face but did not question me yet. He wanted to see what I would do. I gave lord Uther a contented smile before continuing. "There is a garnet mine close to my uncle, lord Nottingham's country home. Perhaps you should like to visit him and collect some for your next fine piece of jewellery?" I said casually. I knew lord Farquaad was angry, I could see him struggle to find words from the corner of my eye. Lord Uther was delighted but recoiled when he saw Farquaad's trembling lip, then shook his head letting his jowls quiver moments after he had stopped shaking his head. I nodded my head, grudgingly expecting my defeat before I saw lord Farquaad's triumphant smile. _Smug little bugger_, I thought jealously.

"Of course," started lord Farquaad turning more towards lord Uther, luckily I could still hear every word. "...Since we are here to finalize trade between our two kingdoms. I can assure you once I became ruler of Duloc, I will export most of our vast stone industry. Everything from diamonds to opals to Far far away, within days. That is, once _I_ am ruler. "Farquaad said honestly, yet I found it somewhat sinister. I remembered every word though. Lord Uther nodded in agreement but remained silent. I knew they were withholding information deliberately from me. I felt the familiar prickle of irritation and humiliation swell under my skin like a wretched unwelcome boil.

~~*&*~~

The rest of the meal went well, though I didn't eat much else. I felt I was coming down with some sort of sickness; either that or it was lord Uther's table manner that put me off. Most impressively, the desert consisted of eggs from Melusine herself! Can you believe it? They were sour and bitter but surprisingly good. Now I did eat these heartily. I knew the famous story of Melusine and how many men fell in love with her. Of course I forgot all the parts about the heartache that followed as I sucked at the blackened yoke ebbing from the broken egg. I hoped I gained some of her appeal or her famous beauty. Lord Uther seemed pleased as I steadily emptied the shells, he even remarked to lord Farquaad about it. I had noticed that the lord Uther was looking at me often, strangely even, it was certainly off putting. Why was I so suddenly interesting? It worried me. I felt suddenly terrible. I felt faint and hot, breathless and close to vomiting. I had no idea what was going on. I panicked as I couldn't breathe. I saw the lords stir as I panicked before I ran, hunched over, out of the tent holding my hand over my mouth.

The sudden cold air of the dawning night hit me as I stumbled away from the tent. It forced me to fall onto my knees and heave. Stefan ran from goodness knows where to help me, holding my lovely hair back as I vomited repeatedly and said soothing words. My throat burned as though my own vomit threatened to kill me, as my mind raced. I was panicking, what if my uncle had poisoned the feast to kill Farquaad and that I was a victim of his plots? Perhaps Farquaad had poisoned me after finding out I was a spy or that Uther had some hand to play in this? I heaved again. I felt so utter helpless and pathetic, I would have despaired it not been for Stefan. He was the only man I knew at the moment that cared enough about me to comfort me. Once I stopped vomiting I cringed from embarrassment that he had seen me in such a state.

"Thank you Stefan" I whispered hoarsely while hiding behind my hair.

"No need it was an honour, Mistress Nottingham. Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you. I shall reward your kindness one day Stefan" I said before he bowed and alerted lord Farquaad. I sat on the ground dazed from the illness that had befallen me as men slowly started to surround me, curios as to see what had happened to me. Any of them could have poisoned me; the question was who did it?

"Mistress Nottingham, are you all right? Can I fetch you anything?"

At first I thought it was Stefan talking to me. I wanted to hear kind words again; I was in a terrible state of self pity. But I only saw it was lord Farquaad, I felt disheartened by that. He looked very calm and collected but there was defiantly a concerned look in his eye.

"I was to return to my uncle for the time being. I want to have him care for me" I said pitifully not meeting his eye. It was as far from the truth as can be, he had, in my eyes, done this to me. But I need to inform him for the alliance and lord Uther's visit. I had to return home.

"No, I cannot allow that. " Farquaad answered defiantly stiffening slightly as if anxious. I sighed inwardly, why couldn't he just comply for once?

"My lord. What if what I carried is contagious? What if I should die? Do you wish to have it too? Please. Let me return to my uncle. If I am to die then let me die with my kinsman who will die soon after. Please my lord, do not deny me that. "I said with a note of despair in my voice. I did not think I was going to die but I would do anything to obey my uncle.

We sat in a silent stalemate, with only night time sounds behind us. I stared pleadingly and observantly at him while he pondered my request. I begged god for him to say yes. I could feel my stomach churn again as I tasted bile in my mouth, I willed him to answer before I vomited.

"Very well my lady. But you will return when I say and you will do as I say, understand?" He said bitterly as if holding a grudge.

"Yes my lord. God bless you" I answered then vomited before the lords and their companions.


	5. Chapter 5

_An: So sorry I haven't posted in months. I've been super busy with school and a teacher that is determined that I will fail. This chapter is short, it's just a taster, the next chapter is so juicy i can't wait to post it! Ty for reviews you guys rock and they make me want to make my writing better for you ^^_

* * *

I was smuggled into my uncle's manor in the dead of night, like some criminal rather than a beloved niece. The stars twinkle above the pale fortress as the clouds rolled over the moon like a pearl earring lost amongst long curling raven locks of hair. The wind beat violently against the cold stone walls as I was ushered in as my lovely hair covered my face like a mask. In contrast to Farquaad's busy household, my uncle's home was empty. In my current state I was glad of the peace I found within the silence and the darkness, and I found that my stomach stopped churning, my fever mellowed and I felt I could breathe again. It was so quiet I could hear the logs crackle in a nearby fireplace and the distance tolling of a bell. The two noises contradicted each other so. One was brash, load and demanded your attention upon hearing it. The other was soft, subtle and beautiful. I could not help but see the comparisons between these seemingly simple noises and myself and lord Farquaad. I scorned myself for such folly before feeling a dizziness intoxicate me. I steered myself towards the stair case, holding out my hands like a small child reaching for its mother. I caught the railings and dragged myself up the smooth stone stair case towards my uncle's study. I almost collapsed at the top, I was weak and tired, I could have wept for the burning sensation in my throat alone. Surely and steadily I made my way towards his study, running my hand along the walls for some support. I felt as though I was about to die. I found that the door was open. I looked into the room was half opened eyes as the sweat gathered on my brow. I saw him looking out of one of the windows towards the courtyard; he has grown plumper and balder since last I saw him. I smile with relieve and breathe the word "uncle" for that is all I can say upon seeing him. No matter what danger he may have put me in, his is still my uncle, my beloved uncle. He turns and looks at me with a kind smile spread across his face and his cheeks wrinkling and for the first time I see how old he really is. He is not a young man like Farquaad and he is not the immortal solider I thought him to be. He is a man and an old one at that. I suddenly realise how fragile I am in comparison and I run to embrace him. He is old and failing and I am a weak and poisoned. I hold him in my arms. We both may die soon, is all I could think.

"Kitty, my niece why are you here? Where you found out? God be praised you are not dead!" he said muffled behind my hair. I smiled at his concern, comforted that he finally showed affection for me. Holding him in my arms reminded me of my childhood spent running around the grounds of this castle and then him catching me up into his arms and spinning me around to my gleeful delight. I pulled away from his hug and the memoires it held, back into the darkness of the night.

"I was poisoned uncle. But I have news you must hear. Farquaad was trying to gain support from lord Uther of Far Far Away and they also finalized a trade union between the two kingdoms." The words I utter rattle in my throbbing throat before croakily surfaced into the air. I would have been shocked by the noise had I not been so tired. I see he is horrified but it melts away into an unreadable look, he patted my shoulder gently and ushered me towards my room. I was once again a small child being cared for, relaying on him for reassurance. He sent for a servant to undress me before he helped me into bed. As I lay on the cool mattress, he kissed my forehead tenderly before whispering his thanks in my ear. But I was deaf to his thanks, all I could feel was the heat of my fever and the waves of bile in my stomach brewing into a great acidic storm. He left me in darkness with only my poorly constructed thoughts to keep my attention. Was I to die?


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Just back from holiday hence the wait lol. Thanks for the continued support guys, you rock and yes your namesakes finally have an appearance! This chapter is really quite choppy but I had alot to cover but it sets up really well. In any case enjoy, the next chapter will be up in a few days. _

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I survived that most dreadful night. In my sleep I saw those who may have wronged me, leering over my frail body like roots in a fresh grave with me in my coffin looking up at them. Was it not for my determination to have revenge, I most likely would have died. I would have my revenge on Lords Uther and Farquaad for this, for they were most likely to do such a thing. Farquaad could have tried to rid of an enemy, as I was, and Uther wasn't above poisoning women to have his way. I felt the bitter taste of anger replace the hot taste of bile as I look out to see the rising sun. My hatred may have saved my life, I thought as the golden rays of light rolled like looms of unwinding fabric over the countryside. My pillow and hair was damp with sweat and I was deadly pale but I was alive. My Uncle's doctor suggest it was an evil enchantment rather than poison that had affected me and chances were whatever the enchantment was for it would remain with me for life. As he wittered on about enchantments and spells my mind went back to the source of my illness; Melusine's eggs. Was my curse to be as she was? Was my curse that her tragedy befallen on me? I shrugged away such thoughts. I would not rush towards into the future and miss the present, for I was weak and had no certainty of a future.

~~*&*~~

It took little more than a year for me to recover. During that time I was pleasantly surprised to see my uncle had finally allowed his mistress; Elizabeth Malt and her younger sisters Jen and Hannah, to stay with him. The sisters all share the common trait of fair skin and fair golden hair inherited from their elvin grandmother who married a human. Elizabeth was the oldest at thirty six and a widow with two sons just younger than me. Jen and Hannah were at similar ages with me but their likeness to their sister is incredible. They all share the same flawless porcelain skin, the same grace and elegance and the same sweet nature. It shamed me into looking like a lowly uncouth bar wench. Elizabeth took pity on me and while I recovered she taught me how to act like a proper lady. She taught me in the ways of seduction until I was a skilled seductress. She taught me how to hunt and how to keep a conversation flowing with ease while my strength slowly returned. And, she taught me how to cope when my uncle died and the responsibilities I would have in running a household. As I grew more confident and I grew more beautiful, I was no longer Mistress Field mouse. I was Mistress Katherine Nottingham. In that year of ripening for me, I only received two letters from lord Farquaad. They contain the pleasantries of "I hope you are well" and "when will you return?" and I returned them with similar and expected answers without any ounce of my bitterness towards him. He is unaware of how I wish to see his down fall. That thought made me smile with a strange mixture of haughtiness and distain. This lord has wronged me and I would have my revenge but he would not know it.

~~*&*~~

The snow begins to spread across Duloc as Christmas draws closer. The creature servants begin their pagan holidays and celebrations in their dirty little chambers. mumbling their pagan prayers while sweeping the floors. Elizabeth is given an early Christmas present; she is pregnant. My uncle is relived and joyous at the news of his first born child while Hannah and Jen fuss over her so, as if it was her first child. Elizabeth is over whelmed but glad of the affection from her sisters and gracefully deals with the constant fussing. My uncle is jollier and has more colour in his cheeks these days, I think as I watch the happy family from besides the fire place. Elizabeth is sitting in a rocking chair with Jen and Hannah sitting beside her on foot rests, my uncle meanwhile decorates the Christmas tree, laughing over his shoulder as the ladder shudders and wobbles under his weight. I smile at this happy scene; it is my first proper Christmas with a family, nay, with my family. Even the dukedom of Duloc looks as though it is going to be given to my uncle, with no one taking Farquaad and Uther's alliance seriously. All was right with the world at that moment in time; everything was perfect for us Nottinghams and Malts. We were untouchable and secluded in our happiness. But like a new love affair and a summer's day; nothing good ever lasts long.

~~*&*~~

"_...In the darkness of the forest the young knight could hear the splashing of the fountain long before he could see the glimmer of the moonlight reflecting on the still surface. He was about to step forward, longing to dip his head, drink in the coolness, when he caught his breath at the sight of something dark , moving deep in the water. There was a greenish shadow in the sunken bowl of the fountain. It moved and stood upright and he saw a bathing woman. She was Melusine, the water goddess, and she is found in hidden springs and waterfalls in any forest in Christendom. A man may love her if he keeps her secret and lets her alone when she wants to bathe, and she may love him in return until he breaks his word, as men always do. The tragedy of Melusine, whatever language tells it, whatever tune it sings, is that A man always promises more than what he can do to a woman he cannot understand..."_

~~*&*~~

One morning when I feel well enough, I decide to ride alone in the forests surrounding my uncle's country manor. I am safe from bandits as the trees are bare and I can see for miles between their black twisting branches. The forest before me looks like leaking ink across a piece of paper as the branches cross over the grey sky. The sunlight is faint but ever present, bathing me in a soft glow. As I ride along the narrow river I could hear the gentle trickling and splashing of the water that is not harden by the ice, it is silent par the water follow. The morning is so cold it stings, but I'm glad of the fresh air and freedom for a change. Before me I see a man drinking from the river. He has cracked it with the handle of his sword and is using his helmet as a cup for the cold water. The water drips from his helmet into the stream causing more sound in the still morning. He is wearing lord Farquaad's livery but has not noticed me as he messily drinks the icy water, slurping and coughing as it hits his stomach. I sit on my large horse with a content smile on my face as I watch him. He turns with alarm to see a fair maiden soaked in sunlight on a horse watching him but regained his manners enough to bow.

"Greetings sir, are you lost? "I offer from my high position on the back of my powerful horse, _I could crush him so easily_ I think with a small childish smile. He chuckles at me; a woman in a powerful position is a comical thing to men like him. He places his helmet back onto his head and wipes her fist along his mouth.

"No milady. I was on my way to deliver a message to Lord Nottingham. Do you know of him?" The man asks with a heavy country accent looking up at me. I smile my charming newly created smile. The smile that reads: _Of course I will help you good sir. In fact helping you is my greatest desire. _

"Yes, he is my uncle. Can you give me the message so I can give it to my uncle and save you a long journey?" I asked sweetly. The man is reluctant but then I see a flash of recognition, he has remembered me from the lord Farquaad's household. _How could he forget? I was the most beautiful thing in lord Farquaad's household_, I think with a chuckle. He quickly pulls out the message and bows. I smile at this gesture and nod my head in return and before he retreats back into the trees, like a small rodent scurrying to its nest. I watch like a cat, making sure he is gone and cannot see me before I tear open the message and read it with haste. The letter is an invitation to Farquaad's Christmas feast aimed to look like a token of goodwill. I can see it is far from it; Farquaad never did anything for anyone else's enjoyment, he clearly wanted something by inviting us to the feast. I put my fur shawl tighter around my shoulders. I could have sworn that it had grown colder after reading that letter. Was the weather an omen? I dismissed this idea at once for its stupidity; I had more important things to think about. I pull on the reins and I ride as fast as I can home, this cannot be a matter without planning.

I feel terrible for invading as the happy family have breakfast, but it must be done. I gesture for my uncle to join me before I walk up into his study and wait for him, as I walk up the stone stair case I hear him apologizing before I hear the shuffling of chairs. He joins me in his study and looks at me expectantly and slightly annoyed before taking a seat at his desk.

"What is it, Katherine?" He asks picking up a marble paper weight and toying with it between his huge leathery hands. The man sitting before me has not a care in the world, so much so when faced with a problem he would shrug it off. I smile. Elizabeth has made him a contented man, a kinder man, a new man. This last year has moulded us surviving Nottinghams into a contented family rather than the scheming soldiers we were. We are no longer peasants who fight over whatever titles are handed to us; we are now nobles who enjoyed our wealth.

"I received a message for Farquaad. He is inviting us all to a Christmas feast." I say while blowing on the window then drawing a simple heart shape with my index finger idly. My uncle continues to toy with the paper weight silently; I turn to look at him. "I think, he thinks to gain from our presence being there. Public scandal or perhaps he means to assassinate me again?" I say raising my voice just slight due to irritation. How can my uncle not care about this? He is a politician and soon to be duke yet he won't act when an enemy makes a move. I suddenly fear for our cause, I want my exploiting, calculation uncle back. He wouldn't sit and do nothing. It is good he is happy, content and not always ambitious but there is a time to be a simple man. This was not it. "Well?"

"We will go" He says watching the weight being tossed in the air. It is a short statement yet it lacks any comforting planning. I raise my eye brow at him surprised he will not elaborate, I walk towards him and snatch the paper weight from him and slam it onto his desk. The noise was so loud I thought for a moment I had broke the desk. He looks at me surprised by this action but still says nothing. The silence is like a nagging itch and drives me into a spasm of rage.

"Uncle it is a trap. We must have a plan" I say clearly while staring in contempt at him before turning back toward the window. The foolish man simply glanced at me. He walks up behind me and grabs my wrists before giving me a slap across the face; I touch my burning cheek and glare at him as he walks back to his desk. Even after striking me he is calm and unmoved.

"I swear do not over reach yourself girl. Do not think you are more wise and more able than me for I have seen men die for less. We shall go and be grateful to lord Farquaad and gain his trust. He will then be loyal to us, and when I am duke of Duloc I shall reward him with a lesser title. No back stabbing or falseness, we will be men of honour and trust." My uncle says self assuredly and confident that this is the truth. But unlike my uncle, I know Farquaad would not settle for second best.

"So you will not smite him, instead you plan to reward him for opposing you?" I question him, turning back to look at him. The man is a fool to think Farquaad would agree. It seems all Elizabeth has done is cover his dark nature and covered his eyes. I scoff at him as he swells up in anger.

"I will appease him! What else should I do, go to war with him? You have not seen war. If you had you would not so readily desire it. We are lucky the kingdom has not divided yet; do you want to see civil war? Do you?!" He yells at me like a man possessed. I admit I would fear for my safety had he not been so old, for I know that he can be dangerous. But in the end I know his heart would fail him, should he get too angry. I bat my eyelids at him as he falls silent. I have not seen war; I shall never see war so why should I fear it? My uncle is a war harden man and an experienced solider, Farquaad is not, it is an advantage for us. I care not that men should die, if it means I shall advance in the world. My uncle should thank me for such devotion to our cause.

"Of course not, uncle" I say with a small smile. It is not worth arguing over, why should I let my uncle defeat Farquaad when I could do it? "I shall get dressed for the feast. Good day" I say as I bow before leaving the room. Let him be a fool and waste his life and his chance for greatness. I shall not.

~~*&*~~

I feel slightly uneasy as I stand besides my uncle and the Malts at Farquaad's door. The snow is lightly falling over the huge castle like we were inside a small pretty snow globe. If we were, then I fear it will shatter when I see Farquaad. I do not know if I am going to strike lord Farquaad or if I shall speak to him at all. It has been over a year for goodness sake. I shake my long curled hair from my shoulders as I play with my ring. I don't know why I am so irritable about meeting him again. Elizabeth is glowing and is dressed very finely in a dark purple velvet dress although her bump is showing. Jen and Hannah, every at her side, are dressed in golden satin dresses with holly crowns on their heads, giggling excitedly about the feast. My uncle is very sombre in black with his furs on, with his arm protectively around Elizabeth and I stand alone besides this family unit. Dress in velvet crimson, with my bodice as tight as can be, nipping my small waist and pushing up my breast to create a plentiful cleavage. I know I look dazzling, this I know from staring at myself in the mirror for hours. I stand alone, the outsider dressed in red. The door is pushed opened and we are welcomed into the castle. The castle is different too; it is brightly lit and is well decorated. It is a castle rather than a dungeon again. We have both grown into pretty things. We are ushered into the main hall where we hear the party is already in full swing. The hall is massive, with the banquet tables in a horse shoe shape. The tables surround a pageant of dancers pretending to be mermaids in a fountain with weird fluid movements and shimmering in the candle light due to excessive sequins. They are dazzling. Some of the guests are feasting, some are dancing and some are just talking. While Elizabeth and my uncle are seated I take my leave and look around the hall. There are so many people who I have not yet seen before, and those I have including lord Uther.

Lord Uther spots me and waddles over towards me. That great gut adorned with a jewelled golden belt and covered neatly with an orange gown. I silence a snicker; he really does resemble a toad. I look around the room to see little Arthur and I am saddened not to see the fair haired wary little boy. I have grown quite fond of him, yet pity him for having a father such as this. He stands before me with a wide smile spread across his face, I smile faintly back unimpressed by what is facing me.

"Mistress Nottingham, how are you dear girl?" He asks bowing to kiss my extended arm. Unfortunately my arm is not long enough to keep him away from me. I blush from embarrassment to be near him rather than modesty as his lips part upon my hand.

"I am well, milord. And yourself? Oh tell me how did the alliance go since I missed it?" I say sweetly before yanking my hand away from his greasy lips, and put it behind my back for safety. He smiles a semi charming smile before straightening up and link arms with me, so we can walk amongst the crowds. I obey this and follow his lead.

"I am well, the alliance did go well for both of us" He said. He lied, his brother king Harold never approved of it and since Harold was king and his word law, the alliance was not respected nor approved. The alliance was just an empty promise on both sides from what I could see. But I smile anyways. I could be linking arms with my attempted murderer, but now was not the time for my revenge. I would see him humiliate himself first due to this petty alliance. I know that my smile is growing even more transparent so I excuse myself from him. I am thankful to be away from such a foul toad as I sit myself down at the banquet tables. I am alone and a few seats away from my uncle and Elizabeth, who chat merrily, blind to my presence. The seats are backless and more like golden stools, I discover this just before I lean backwards. I sit watching over the dancers and the guests with a dazed interest. I note that I am the only one dressed in red velvet as I sit sipping the ale. It is overly bland and I note that is made by humans which is really rather odd as every ale I know of is made by fairy tale creatures. I drink it anyways regardless if it's poisoned or bland, as I think of why we were brought here. What could he gain from our presence? Was it really goodwill? Was it to murder my uncle? My mind thought internally as I gazed out at the dancers. The mermaids raise out of the water made from satin sheets and dive below it again, giving the audience a quick glance of their shimmering tails. The satin blue sheets are directly in front of me, shaking and shivering like the water in the stream. I smile as I watch; the dance makes me want to just dive into a river for a quick and sudden burst of freezing freedom.

"I see you have returned, my lady" a voice says behind me. I am so lost in my own thoughts I do not recognize the voice, I quickly turn to see who is addressing me in fear of insulting them. With a shake of my brown locks I turn to face my addresser. Then I see those opal eyes and my resentment frays away like an old worn out dress. We are almost face to face, as I am sitting down, looking directly at each other, both dressed in red velvet. I smile to mask my sudden muteness and stand to bow to him. I rise up from my stool; to him it would look like I was rising from the satin waters of the dance like some water enchantress.

"Indeed I have, Lord Farquaad." I say dipping into a low curtsey. As I rise and sit back down I see he is stunned to silence. His face is blank with awe but his eyes twinkle brightly. He is lost for words and simply watches me as if under a spell. It is an odd sight; I have never seen anyone look at me this way before. I smile sweetly and wait patiently for a response, embarrassed by the effect I have had on him. He scoffs, regaining himself before his face is contorted back into a constant look of arrogance. Behind this I can tell he is still stunned by the sight of me.

"I see you are well again, did you not think to tell me?" He asks questioningly as if insulted before giving a small chuckle standing before me as I turn to face him. The man has obviously been shaken by the encounter and is masking. I smile, for that is all I can do and look at him with regretful fondness. I hate him yet there is something about him that draws me into liking him.

"I have not heard from you, my lord. It was most cruel." I answer honestly "I was locked away from the world because of my illness. Once I was recovered I forgot there was a world outside of my bedroom, just as the world forgot me." I say with some sadness before sipping my ale. From the corner of my eye I see his smile falter and I see true concern. He actually is concerned for my person. I cannot tell you how this made my heart fill with hope.

"I did not forget about you my lady. There was not a day that went by I did not think of you" He says as he tries to swallow his pride for my sake. I am flattered by this, how can I not be? Would you not be flattered if a man told you he missed you? That he thought about you?

"Yet you did not write to me. Is that not negligence of your ward?" I ask with some bitterness showing before I turn my back on him and watch the dancers. Do not know what he is doing other than he must be hurriedly thinking what to say to appease me or swelling in irritation. The silence grows longer and more comfortable to me then I feel it. The sudden movement. I feel his gloved hand brush my neck to move a lock of hair. My whole body tingles as I feel the slow and faint feeling of his hand brushing against my small neck. I shiver with odd delight at this action and alarm. He simply brushes the lock of hair away and whispers in my ear. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek and it makes my earrings dance with sudden gleeful pleasure. I suppress a smile of delight.

"I have to be cruel to be kind." He says with that cocky posh drawl into my ear while looking down my neck. My veins must be visible and bulging as the blood rushes around my body rapidly. I swallow hard and smile, trying to remain calm while he watches me.

"And what kindness will I gain from this?" I say genteelly. It is a daring thing to say and hardly modesty but I say it anyways. It had to be said. He smiles, placing his cheek onto my own and letting his raven silk hair brush against my cheek. It is soft and lightly perfumed so much so I cannot help but nuzzle it slightly. As I nuzzle the hair I can feel his skin under it, soft then stubbly. I then felt a strange jolt of desire. I really was not thinking clearly, why else would I act so forwardly? So whorishly? So mindlessly?

"Give me time, my lady Katherine and you will see. All I ask of you is time and in return I shall give you kindness and not cruelty." He says without a trace of his haughty, cocky, arrogant self. He speaks imploringly and with honesty. It was almost a different man. I could have been for all I knew, for I had closed my eyes to block out the rest of the guests and lived only on my other heightened senses. Had I been a weaker women I would have promised him eternity right there on the spot. But I wasn't and so I smiled, promising nothing for either of us. After waiting in vain, he recoiled before he kissed my bare shoulder and took his leave back into the crowds leaving me alone. Stunned by the events of the night and stunned by the sudden change in the lord, I sat in silence. This year was indeed a year of much change and a hopeful future. With Elizabeth pregnant, my uncle gaining much support and the lord Farquaad changed it did indeed seem like a bright day was dawning over Duloc. Now all I had to wonder was what was going happened to me.


	7. Chapter 7

"Katherine! Wait up, you're too fast!" Hannah called out giddily as I rode out across the snowy countryside. I rode as fast as possible leaving the other members of the hunting party behind, calling out to me in hopes that I would slow down. I smile brightly at the thought, exposing my teeth to the cold midday air. The sun is shining over this frosty and cold kingdom brightly but unhelpfully, but I am grateful for its efforts. From my vantage point on this small frozen hill I can see over the stretching valleys and into the beginnings of the bare forests. Under foot I can hear my horse's hooves crunching through the snow carelessly. I toss my hair in the chilling wind as it blows fiercely over the snowy valley as I wait for the hunting party. I, in truth think we are riding in vain and it is doubtful that we will find anything to hunt. Lord Farquaad, as awkward as ever, claims we will. Whether it is lord Farquaad being awkward or his honest judgement I cannot say for sure. However I find it doubtful it is the latter. After last night I am doubly cautious of him so I cannot help but dissect everything he says to see some fault with it. My uncle is first to arrive beside me. He is wearing very fine dove grey robe with a satin black coat with the collar and wrists trimmed with black bear fur. He looks so very regal and noble sitting up straight on his tall horse. I smile proudly to see him looking so much like a king. I hope that he will become duke of Duloc and perhaps he and Elizabeth's son will marry a princess and become king consort. I may be cousin to the king of Duloc, fancy that! We have risen from peasants to great nobility. There are those who would hate us for our great rise, but we care little for them. We are the Nottinghams and we are to become higher still.

Lord Farquaad trots up soon after my uncle. He, unlike my uncle, is dress garishly and extravagantly demanding attention. Despite my own distrust and (to a certain degree) dislike of him, I cannot help but give him attention. I look over my shoulder at him, seeing him looking outwards towards the valleys and the wind gently tousling his hair. I blush madly at the sight so much so I turn away. I force myself to look forward and I do not dare think about last night.

"Mistress Nottingham, you ride like a mad woman. Why do you ride so, is it to escape us?" Lord Farquaad asked casually riding his horse so he is besides me and away from my uncle. My uncle is watching him; his eyes roll like marbles towards us while he dare not move any other muscle. I smile at my uncles attempt to spy on us then turn my pleasant face towards lord Farquaad.

"My lord, I do not want to escape you. I merely enjoy the freedom of riding as fast and as far as I can. Perhaps you should try it" I offer with a smile. I see him noting what I said before smiling back at me. It is not his usual smile, that arrogant and cocky smirk; it is more gentle and thoughtful. I admit I am surprised to see such a genuine smile. We sit and softly smile and gaze at each other, only aware of each other and the soft white glow of the snow. I feel my memories melt away like a snowflake on my skin as I gaze into those clear blue eyes, and slowly I felt like I was swimming in the gaze of those blue eyes. But then we heard the sound of heavy hooves thundering towards us and we both regretfully tore our eyes away and looked towards the sound. Jen, Hannah and Uther came tearing up towards us. To be honest I felt sorry for lord Uther's horse, the poor beast wheezed and gasped under Uther's weight and because he whip the poor thing faster and faster. Hannah trotted up beside myself and lord Farquaad with a face set with anger. I raised my eyebrows questioningly towards her to which she twisted her elfin features into a sneer and nodded her head toward lord Uther before mouthing "foul mouthed". I was not altogether surprised, for I knew Hannah was a pretty girl and I knew Uther was a perverted and immoral man. I saw lord Farquaad stiffen in his saddle as Uther approached.

"Mistress Nottingham, what a charming girl Hannah is. What standing is she? I think I could arrange for her to be a lady-in-waiting to my niece; Princess Fiona."

"She has no standing, your grace. I doubt court affairs would please her much; she is a simple girl and chaste girl." I answer shortly. I see lord Farquaad scoff softly as I see lord Uther's eyes light up.

"You make out as though Far far away is some sort of depraved and sinful court, mistress Nottingham." Uther answered mockingly towards me, but he runs wicked his eyes over poor Hannah as she sits feeling violated. I feel myself flaring with anger, my mother's anger.

"It wouldn't interest you if it wasn't, lord Uther "I said snidely giving him a distasteful glance. He is silenced by my comment but lord Farquaad laughs silently in approval. Hannah blushes in embarrassment and rides towards my uncle and Jen. My uncle now openly glares in disapproval in my direction before riding off towards the forests after seeing a deer dart out of the woodlands with Hannah and Jen closely behind.

"She has a good point, my lord. You haven't once tried to look for any real game to hunt today" Lord Farquaad added while we rode out after them. Uther pouted and held his head high.

"I have been hunting for game today, just a different kind, lord Farquaad." Uther added confidently, speaking towards Farquaad in that alien language of men's talk. I roll my eyes angrily. Pray god no man thinks to speak of me like that.

~~*&*~~

The hunt was successful thanks to Hannah. She transferred her anger into her hunting and caught two stags. Of course Uther commented on her success with: "that's not the only thing you've put an arrow through". She in response ignored him and chatted playfully to one of lord Farquaad's close companions as we arrive back into the castle. Uther is furious. I laugh at Uther's petty jealousy. Uther was a revolting old fat man, how could he actually think he stood a chance with a beautiful young woman? It actually made me wonder why anyone would have a child with him.

"I admit his determinate is comic but don't under estimate him." I looked down to see Lord Farquaad. There was no smile on his face; he was strangely serious as he warns me.

"I did not see you, my lord. What do you mean?" I asked as I watch Lord Uther trying to interrupt Hannah and the knight's conversation. I hear Farquaad sigh.

"Come with me for a moment, Mistress Nottingham." He says quietly before leading out of the hall. I followed without question, curios of his new founded graveness. He walks into a small sitting room with a fire place, a few stools and a painting easel. He gestures for me to sit on a stool, I accept but he stands. He is now strangely taller than me.

"Mistress Nottingham, I fear you very much underestimate lord Uther. That is a dangerous thing to do." Lord Farquaad says anxiously. I scoff at him, why is he so suddenly worried about such a pathetically disgusting man? "See, you are doing the very thing I warned you of!" he exclaims. I silence my laughter.

"Why do you worry, my lord? How do I underestimate him? "I said evenly.

"You laugh at him, mistress Nottingham. You wouldn't laugh if you knew what he had done or what he is capable of doing" Farquaad said with an unpleasant edge to his voice. I feel a sudden chill in the air. What could Uther have done to repulse lord Farquaad so much?

"My lord is there something troubling you?" I ask uneasily. I know I probably won't like what he is going to tell me.

"Yes it is about how Uther became a lord and how Arthur was born." He says will a hint of sadness.

"Please tell me" I say, getting him to continue. He smiles at me then sighs and begins.

"No one knows for certain where lord Uther or even king Harold came from. All we know is that Harold was a man of little standing who appeared from nowhere and who courted Princess Lillian. The two were madly in love and despite her father's displeasure, Princess Lillian married Harold. Angered by this, her father banished her into poverty and away from his favour. Despite living in terrible poverty, they lived happily. When the king died, Princess Lillian became queen of Far far away and Harold king consort. Upon his raise he made his brother; Uther, an Earl and a member of the Privy Council. But it would turn out that Harold had made a terrible mistake. Among the many courtiers of the Far far away court there was a young lady. Lady Igraine. Igraine was an amazingly beautiful woman with long raven hair and goddess like beauty. Uther became madly in love with Igraine sending her gifts and love sonnets when this failed to win her affections he became more forceful and threatening. Igraine rejected his advances and when Uther became forceful she retreated from court back home to her children and told her husband of Uther's actions. Her husband was furious with Uther and warned him away from his wife then left court. Uther became outraged and swore revenge for Igraine's husband's actions. Without King Harold's permission, Uther called on a small army of about twenty men. He rode out after Igraine's husband. Her husband was slowly making his way to his wife and children when Uther caught him. Uther murdered him besides the road out of spite and jealousy. Uther then rode to Igraine's home. When he arrived he raped her which ended in Arthur's creation. Uther then asked his brother for permission to marry Igraine, claiming her husband committed suicide. Harold refused until he could see if there was any foul play but he never found the body. Uther urged him to let him marry Igraine as she was pregnant with his child and did not want it to be declared a bastard. Harold gurglingly accepted but removed Uther from court and took away his title as Earl and replaced it with the lesser title of lord. Since then the brothers have not spoken fondly to each other. "Farquaad finished and then turned to me with a look that read as: I-told-you-so. I sat stunned by this story; I had heard some similar rumours but never so bluntly or so certainly. I felt an over whelming feeling of dread for poor Hannah, the new subject of his affections.

"What of Hannah? He would not dare do such a thing!" I say with growing hate. Farquaad laughs softly at my comment and I have to agree with him it is a foolish statement. If he would murder and forcibly take what he wanted before what would stop him now? I place my palms together as if I wear to pray before my mouth as try to come to terms of what he told me and what the consequences would be.

"There is worse still. Remember when you first met Uther? "Farquaad asks me gently.

"Yes?" I answer wondering where this is going. He down cast his eyes towards the floor.

"He tried to sedate you. It resulted in you having an extreme reaction. "Farquaad said in little more than a whisper. I gasped at Farquaad's confession and felt like I was about to tumble of my stool. I suddenly couldn't breathe as I realised how close I had came to being raped myself. I started gasping for air. As quick as a whip cracking, Lord Farquaad was at my side helping to my feet. He led me out of the small parlour and up a spiral staircase. From the stair case he led me through another room and unto a balcony. The balcony was lined with a soft snow over looking an incredible view of Duloc. As soon as I felt the cold air on my face I fell down onto the ground. I sucked in the thick cold air even though my stomacher dug into my ribs. I felt as though my heart would burst out of my chest before it slowly started to calm down.

"Are you alright, mistress Nottingham?" he asked gently as he stood before me. I looked up to see him towering over me, as my heart slowly began to settle. I just looked up at him, as I felt his hand under my jaw. The velvet of his glove slowly and softly tracing my jaw before resting under my chin making my head look directly at him. Before I could another I felt his lips crashed down upon my own. It as though a jolt of electricity ran through my body setting my nerves ablaze with lust. His lips were strangely soft as they messaged my own with their tender movements. I kissed him back, more urgently as I strained to reach his lips. His soft perfumed hair fell over my face, tickling me as it briefly touched my skin. I felt his other hand reach up onto my cheek followed by the other, pulling my face closer to his own as the kiss became more passionate. But nothing good could last as we heard a terrible screaming of anger from within the castle. I pulled away from the kiss to listen to the screams. They were a man's. They were my uncles. I pulled away from the embrace and ran into the castle, only turning around to see lord Farquaad bemused and surprised face as he stood where I left him. As I got closer to the guest rooms the screams grew louder followed by the desperate begging of Elizabeth, Hannah and Jen. What the hell was happening? I thought as I pulled open the doors and gasped.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN : I dedicate the rest of this fic to Shrek the musical, it will be missed :( __. But although Shrek the musical is gone, I'm back and looking forward to the reviews! Also When i upload documents they don't let me have any separations for new paragraphs so I've had to resort to put lines between paragraphs. sorry for that. _

* * *

My uncle screamed, tearing a table cloth from a table and back handing the goblets of wine, candle sticks and a vase causing wine and flowers to rain down onto the cold stone floor. Hannah and Jen stood protectively in front of the pregnant Elizabeth, who stood defiantly and bravely against his rage but had a rising fear in her lovely elfin eyes. I was shocked by my uncle's inconsolable rage but stood mutely and expectantly in the doorway.

"That fucking cunt! That fucking cunt!" He screamed as he turned his anger towards a mirror. With clenched wrinkled fists, he punched the mirror until it shattered into a thousand pieces of reflective blood stained glass adding more debris to the floor. Jen let out a gasp of horror as the glass chimed off the floor, like pinches of a harp string.

"Uncle" I say in a tone I normally reserved for disobedient dogs. He turns to face me bewildered by the voice or by the tone. His mouth has been gaping for that long that I can see a small faint trail of salvia running down his chin; it's a pitiful sight like a confused and hurt bear that has been baited. He stands awkwardly amongst the chaos he has caused, heaving heavily as though every breath he took was breaking him. His throat rattles like bones every time oxygen enters his body yet he still desperately breathes in longing for the satisfaction of full lungs. My voice seemingly has pulled him out of his angry fit. It was almost like he was entranced by an angry melody and danced destructively to its song. But the song is over now as he stumbles towards the now cleared table and places his old leathery hands down on it's cool reflective face. He hunches over the table supporting himself from collapse.

"John" Elizabeth cries softly from behind the protective barricade of her sisters. She held her swollen stomach protectively, reminding herself of her precious load as she watches her beloved suffer so. I give her a quick and warning glance. My uncle needs no sympathy; he needs to explain what has happened. He gives me a scornful glance before looking back down at the clean table. The face that looks back at him is an old foolish man whose anger was becoming an overwhelmingly heavy burden to bear. He is exhausted by his temper. I then suddenly remember what lord Farquaad told me and look towards Hannah. Has lord Uther done something terrible as Lord Farquaad suggested? If he has then he will have to face not only my uncles intimidating anger but my own. Yet Hannah seems fine, other than her look of sheer defiance towards my uncle which is justifiable. Who's to say he wouldn't have struck Elizabeth in his mad rage?

"Uncle? Please, what is it?" I ask, much softer and gentler than before. It sounds like the timid mother comforting her child rather than a niece enquiring her uncle. His chest is no longer expanding and contracting violently as though some horrid creature wishes to break free, no, it's slowly and naturally moving outwards and inwards. He still coughs and wheezes but is now able to speak, even if it's laboured.

"That bastard..." he whispers hoarsely before collapsing to the floor. He falls too quickly for any of us to catch him and we heard a painful thud as his head hits the table on the way downwards. Elizabeth, quickly moving her sisters aside runs over to him despite her own handicap. He looks up at her with a simple expression on his aged face as she fusses over him before shooing her away from him as he gathered himself and got up. I remain in the doorway, not budging to move him. I warned him that something terrible would happen, and evidently something has although I am yet to hear of it.

"Elizabeth, Jen, Hannah, go outside" He says as commanding as he could in his broken state. Jen and Hannah bow and obediently and leave, probably glad to be out of his dreadful company, but Elizabeth doesn't move. She stands defiantly and still. I can see her lip tremble, no matter how dignified and stubborn she looks I know she is frightened. It's a pathetic show and I don't see any reason why she is doing it. But I don't comment. My uncle gives her a disinterested look before looking at me.

"Go, Elizabeth" he coughs the statement coldly, which seems strange considering the love he bares for her. She stands with her hands at her sides and her fists clenched so much so they turn snow white.

"No" She utters defiantly and with a sudden strength that she has mustered from god knows where. He turns back to face her giving her a silent look of utter contempt and hate, I don't think even a dragon or an ogre could possess such a nasty and vile expression. Her resolve melts away like snow under his blazing glare and she starts to become tearful. Is my uncle that terrifying or is it just the hormones? I think as I watch her shudder under his gaze. "John, please. You're not well, my love. What if you hurt yourself? Please let me stay. Let me find out what has upset you so." She whimpers like a whipped dog. She pleads with him looking like some princess out of a fairytale that has discovered she is to be banished. He quickly rejects her pleas and looks away. Hurt and confused by his coldness she summons what is left of her pride and tilts her head haughtily marching out into the cold hallway. She barges pass me, shoving me to one side as she waddles out. Wither it is out of disrespect or due to her current size I cannot say.

* * *

Once she is gone I walk towards my uncle, my feet shuffling loudly under my skirts as I walk. I look down to see that my skirts are soaked from kneeling in the snow. I blush in sheer embarrassment and frustration. The snow! How could I have been so stupid? Why on earth did I kiss him? More importantly why did I want to kiss him? He could have killed me and he was my enemy and yet I kiss him like a stupid little harlot. I made a personal note to scorn myself later, this was more important than a silly little kiss, Even if it had been an incredibly fantastic kiss at that, which was not the point at all. What's that saying? "Sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth"? Yes I shall remember that. He was a good kisser but was a vile little man.

My uncle seemed to notice that I had recoiled into my brain for some conflict and stood waiting from me to join him back in the present. I gave him a weary smile and stood quietly awaiting his explanation. He exhaled nosily and began.

"Do you know what that bastard has done?" He asked bitterly, still in that death-like wheezy tone. It was very off putting and disturbing.

"Which "bastard"?" I say in a disinterested and mocking tone.

"Farquaad!" He exclaims frustrated by the fact I was unaware of who he was talking about. In return I raise an eyebrow at his vile language that he has adopted but remain silent. He sighs at my slowness but continues, which I am thankful for since his wheezing and coughing are really testing my patience. "He has sabotaged my chances of ever becoming the duke of Duloc! We should have never come. _Elizabeth_should never have come!" he hisses her name with so much scorn you would think he adore Farquaad in comparison. I stand rooted to the spot, Farquaad? Oh god what's he done...Has he been using me all along? Elizabeth?....

"Uncle, I do not follow...."

"He told everyone about Elizabeth and about the child being mine. Then they saw her at the feast. Now no one will support me because they see me as some lecherous old man with a half breed woman and a bastard child." He despairs pounding his fists against the table, they sound like a judge's hammer pounding before a death sentence.

"Surely you will still have supporters? You have good policies and friends...."

"-they count for nought if the people don't support me! My reputation is ruined!"

"Uncle, calm down. You're going to break something."

"He has destroyed my chances completely!"

"It's not as bad as all that, please uncle"

* * *

Then came the yells from the corridor and pleas for freedom. Like a thick black thunder cloud, the noise engulfed the castle before thundering into the room. A large pack of armed guards held Elizabeth and her young sisters captive in a tangle of arms like a humanoid spider web while their swords and daggers quickly flashed like lightning bolts as they removed them from their sheaths. They dragged Jena and Hannah in by their long golden hair as if it was nothing more than common rope. My uncle's anger faded from his face and it turned gravely pale, making him look older and iller, hardly a rival to such a deadly hoard.

"What is the meaning of this? Let go of her, she's pregnant!" He yelled appalled as they manhandled the weeping Elizabeth by shoving her and her unborn child, cruelly between themselves. Whatever his affair with Elizabeth had cost him it did not changed the fact that he loved her deeply, so very deeply and to see her in distress clawed at his heart. He ran over to wrestler her free only to be shoved backwards, he grabbed and punched at the guards, quickly grabbing one's small knife. He pointed the blade towards the heavily protected group of guards, an old man with a small knife against a small group of young skilled men with swords and thicker blades. My poor uncle looked like Don Quixote against these boys. I'm however comical my uncle's fight maybe at least he is doing something. I couldn't move from shock and horror at the brutality these men displayed towards innocent women. "Let her go I say! What is their crime?"

"Unlawful seduction and distraction of property" A voice called out in a haughty if not disgusted tone. I knew the voice all too well but I couldn't believe what he was saying. Lord Farquaad emerged from the crowd wrinkling his noise at the destruction my uncle had caused, behind him lord Uther stood if not slightly uncomfortably. I stood utterly astounded at the injustice, how could they be under arrest for such thing if they had not done them. I looked at the tiny lord imploringly, hoping that he would come to his senses. But then I remembered the horrible truth. My uncle was his enemy and rival, whatever small flirtations he had with me were only to amuse himself. They were nothing. All he wanted was to stop my uncle and that is what these arrests were about. To blacken his name forever. But my uncle's blade remained pointed now at Lord Farquaad, hate coursing through his veins like a poison, I could see it in his eyes.

"Unlawful seduction?" my uncle spits towards him, his eye twitching in anticipation of violence. Farquaad merely tosses hair, caring more about its movement then the charge. For a moment, a brief moment I remember the smell and texture of that hair as he whispered in my ear last night. I carry so much guilt that I ever let myself lust over such a vain wicked little man that I look away from him and to the floor.

"Yes. One of the Malt sisters seduced lord Uther. Quiet explicitly and whorishly, am I right?" Farquaad asked rhetorically, for no one would answer that. No one would oppose him nor admit to such a lie. Hannah was the one getting pestered and hound by Uther! Not the other way around. Farquaad himself had warned me of Uther, so why was he suddenly siding with such a fiend?

"It's not true! It's not true!" Hannah cried tearfully as the guards continued to hold her upright by her long beautiful hair that was now tearing from her scalp. One quickly kicked her to silence her. Uther showed no remorse or guilt at what he had caused. I look back at Uther and Farquaad. With my green eyes I beg them to stop, for I cannot speak. I'm too shocked or frightened or too much of a coward to speak. Farquaad walks over to Elizabeth and roughly grabs her hair so that he faces him. It's un ugly sight as Elizabeth, tearful and dishevelled tries desperately to look towards her love while being forced to look the man that controls her future and attacks her sisters. I shiver as I watch the two, out of anger, at what he has done, and horror, at what he is about to do, and some sort of perverse jealousy. My uncle tenses as he watched, coiling like a snake ready to attack.

"Take your hands off her!" he threatens waving the knife at Farquaad. Farquaad gives him a distasteful look followed a sly smirk, he, like a boy torturing a spider, knows how to affect people. Elizabeth is shaking and sweating in fear as she looks up at her attacker and listens as Jen weeps steadily. There is silence in the room, consuming everything. For a moment there is just silence and stillness but then everything goes horrible wrong.

Farquaad pulls Elizabeth closer towards him, pulling her down onto her knees. He inspects her face with some degree of disgust before looking towards my uncle, who still stands waiting for the chance to strike.

"If your woman is such a whore as you've made her, she won't mind me doing this" he said arrogantly before kissing Elizabeth hard on the lips. She struggles under the kiss, fighting to get away as tears roll down her fair face. I cover my mouth in disgust and hurt at the sight of him kissing another woman and turn my back. My shallow and stupid heart cannot bare it. My eyes sting with fresh tears at the sight but I wish them away. I'm so confused by my conflict, I hate him so much and yet..... Then behind my uncle screams, an unearthly shriek of inhuman anger and rage and runs towards the pair with his knife held high. I hear the blade whistle as it glides through the air towards Farquaad. I hear the blade enter the skin and the sound of thick liquid splash and I flinch, feeling the tears quickly fall from my eyes. I hear gasps, he is dead I know he is dead. Oh god I can't look for fear of what I will see. But then I hear Hannah scream so hysterically I have to turn around. I gasp. My uncle stands confused by what has happened his back towards me, he looks at the knife that know is dripping with scarlet blood as if he has no idea how it came to be there and then he sees what he has done. I let out a horrible wail as I see what his anger and hate for Farquaad has done now. On the floor amongst the shattered glass and crushed flowers, lays Elizabeth. Her face is pale with stands of golden hair falling onto it and all her tears and beads of sweat are frozen. She looks as lovely as always until you reach her slender pale neck where the ragged and bloodied gash is oozing dark blood onto the flowers turning washing their petals red. On hand lays on the cold floor amongst the blood while the other lays limply over her swollen tummy, her unborn child.

Then comes not the sound of inhuman anger but the overwhelming roar of grief at the realisation of what he has done. My uncle throws the knife away into the darkest corner and falls onto his knees. His kneecaps landing painfully into the shards of glass, as he cries out. The sounds he utters, those heart wrenching cries of emotion would move anyone to mourn. He crawls pitifully towards his lover, screaming and crying as he gets closer. His cries are echoed by Hannah and Jen's own cries yet I weep almost silent away from this crowd. Yet the blood seeps towards me like some nightmarish snake.

My uncle now cradles the corpse in his arms, screaming unintelligible words as he pours his grief out like the wound pours the blood out. He has not realised that the baby is now gone too. He sits with her in his arms, oblivious to anyone or anything surrounding him. He is lost in his own grief, rocking back and forth stroking her forehead. Lost to all of us. He does not hear Hannah or Jen's cries or my own or hear Farquaad say;

"Arrest them"


	9. Chapter 9

Lord James Farquaad's pov.

* * *

Life, from the moment you're born to the moment you die, is severely cruel and unpredictable. One moment you're your brother's only heir to the throne of Duloc, The beautiful talented raven haired princess of Duloc. The next, you are disinherited and disowned for marrying a common dwarf diamond miner. One minute you're happily married to that common dwarf diamond miner with a princely small son, the next you've fallen off twenty five mattresses to your death. One minute you're opposing the last legitimate heir to the throne, the son of that disinherited princess. The next you've murdered your whore and have lost all credibility and respect. It only takes a small change, like a small smouldering ember, to potentially burn everything to ash. Lord John Nottingham, with one flick of his wrist destroyed everything. It was his folly and his pride that was to blame. Not me. I just exploited it for my own means. When your whole life has been controlled by sudden irreversible changes beyond your control and has been saturated by disappointment like mine has, you desperately seek a way to gain some control. By catching those small embers of ill fate, those small chances to destroy or manipulate other lives around me, especially my enemies, I use them to full effect. Lord Nottingham did himself no favours. What man would make his "love" pregnant and not marry her? What man would publicly show off his pregnant whore, humiliating and degrading her, in front of all the nobles of the kingdom? What man would then vandalize his host's home before stabbing his "love" to death? These were not creations of mine, no spiteful rumours or fictions or callous gossip spurn from my mouth. He did this all to himself and he has the nerve to curse me for it. And now he weeps pitifully upon my floor, cradling the corpse of his love, that disgusting half-breed whore that destroyed his chance at gaining the crown to this kingdom. I shiver at the thought of my lips touching her skin, that very thought repulses me yet it was worth it to incriminate Nottingham. I would do anything to gain the crown that by blood is rightfully mine. Unlike my mother, or that damned fool Nottingham, I would never sacrifice a crown for love. Love is fleeting and vain and most cruel. You get a taste of love, a small sickeningly sweet teaspoon and you become obsessively addicted to it. It consumes your very thoughts, your actions, your reasoning until you become totally dependent on it. Then it is torn from you and you're left to suffer with withdrawal until you're a shivering, dysfunctional wreck. Like Nottingham, who sits rocking and snivelling and howling like some mad beast from hell. No, that would never be me. I feel no pity towards him as he grieves loudly, he maybe heartbroken but he doesn't know anything about what I have endured and suffered. If the racket was not bad enough with him blubbering disgracefully, the two other half-breed girls were wailing like harpies amongst my men. I had some sympathy with Hannah, for I knew all too well that she rejected Uther many times and never would seduce him. Who could? He's vile. But Uther wanted her and promised me a strong military alliance to help me gain the crown if he could have her, how could I refuse that? Let him have his perverse fun as long as I get his support. And she was related to Nottingham, a slur on her would be another slur on Nottingham, showing how truly undeserving he was for my crown and tarnishing his reputation forever. Even though it makes a lot of sense politically, I do feel guilty over condemning her to a life of hell and misery or if she's lucky one horrible traumatizing experience. That poor girl must suffer for my sake, chances are she will never have a happy life, but at least she has one. I never for a moment intended for the whore Elizabeth to be killed, I just wanted Nottingham to lunge. He would be charged guilty of attempted assassination and hanged. He would have been disposed of and they could have carried on with their lives, away from me and my kingdom.

* * *

"Arrest them" I say with ease, shrugging off my guilt like an unwanted garment as the whole family, or at least what is left of it, is taken way to my cellars that would have to do as a dungeon. My guards, ever loyal, do as I command and drag them away kicking and screaming, none more so than Nottingham. That poor old man who was so taken with his pretty whore, that he lost sight of everything else, clings to the body, hissing and spiting like a violent griffin at the guards as they pulled him (by the legs) away from the corpse. He even drags the body across the floor as they drag him away, only letting go when the body gets caught around the table's legs. His howls of pain and grief resound along the hallway as he is taken away, leaving only me and Uther to listen grudgingly to the mournful song. I still feel no remorse, a man of nobility and a man with a title should not act so, especially if he desires to rule a kingdom. Uther stoops down to place a comforting hand on my shoulder or perhaps a thankful one. I need no comfort for I am unaffected by the scene and I do not want any thanks, I want nothing to do with his sick deeds. Besides, my reward is Nottingham's demise, his death, which he has kindly secured for me. With his death, I only have one more opponent in my way for the crown that was taken from me and I'll have _her_ all to myself. With her uncle's death, she will be placed in my care permanently. She cannot escape me again. The last time I lost _her_ thanks to Uther's lust. But that won't happen this time. He has Hannah to amuse his most intimate regions. He won't try to hurt _her _again. I won't let it happen; I shall look after her like a precious gem. ...She is my ward; if anything happens to her it looks bad for me, that's all. I hold no effect for her, she could damage my career. That's all. No emotion what so ever. No affection at all. Perhaps that would explain why I want to see her so badly now. Yes, that would explain the irrepressible desire to see her. It's merely concern for myself not her. Developing feelings would just complicate things. Not that I have any feelings. I shouldn't see her, what would she say to me? _"Thank you for killing my uncle's beloved and his unborn child. Thank you for hurting her sisters and giving one to a rapist, a rapist that you warned me of. Thank you for executing my uncle and oh, thank you for locking me in a wine cellar". _She no doubt hates me, and that thought somehow makes me feel uncomfortable. If only that fool hadn't swung that damned blade! She could have forgiven me. Perhaps she still can, she cannot deny we shared something on that balcony only an hour ago. Could that over throw her grief and hatred and make her stay? Could that kiss keep her here with me? Maybe, just maybe...

* * *

Uther's hand, that great bejewelled greasy lump of flesh, lies impatiently upon my shoulder waiting for my permission. It was only when I realised his hand was still there that I realised she would never forgive me. I was pulled from my hopeful dream and forced to face the awful reality. How could she? Even if she knew my reasoning, she couldn't. I would have to keep her like a bird in a cage, for my own pleasure even though it would pain and torment her. So what did it matter if I gave Hannah to Uther? She would hate me regardless if I spared Hannah or not, she would never forgive me but she can't ever leave me. She has nothing but me; she is legally bound to me, she cannot escape that. She'll be trapped like a little field mouse in a cage, even though it pains me to think of her held against her will.

"I'll escort her up to your room ...to do with as you wish. " I sigh, quietly pulling away from his greasy heavy hand. I know he is smiling, smiling like child that has gained a new plaything and giddily looks forward to playing with it and then dismantling it when they tire of it. I will only escort Hannah to catch a glimpse of _her_. I want nothing to do with delivering Hannah into his eager embrace yet i must if I want to satisfy my own needs. I part from Uther, He, going to his bedroom, preparing it for Hannah's arrival, I, going to the make shift dungeon to catch the poor girl like a mouse in a trap. It was sickening if anything, but I still didn't feel anything but guilt. Guilt over something I hadn't even done! I wasn't the one that killed the whore or would violate the girl; I'm as much a victim as they are if not more. I had fought my whole live to get to this point, to gain a crown that should have been due to my royal blood. I shouldn't have to whore out girls or instigate fights to gain something that rightfully is mine. If only Katherine could understand; that I take no pleasure in this petty political game, and that even though I seemed most at blame, I was totally innocent. It was an overwhelming prospect, to ask for her forgiveness which I know I will not receive.

* * *

I descend into the dank and dusty wine cellar with a heavy heart and bowed head. This is a walk of shame yet my face remains unreadable and inexpressive like a death mask fresh from a cadaver. The plain primitive stone staircase descended into the small stone room with the guards lounging around it's steps.

"We've got them over by the rusted over grate. Their still hysterical so they won't do much damage, except to themselves of course." One replies without looking towards me. I shudder slightly at the thought of them being too over whelmed by emotion and too silly to not try and escape. Even a wounded and stupid animal will try and escape no matter what. I stand towering over them as I stand on the staircase as they sit on the floor.

"You may leave now. You've done your duty." I say curtly and dismiss them with a quick wave of my hand. The men quickly get up and walk quietly passed me, but as they pass me I can hear them snicker and mention Uther. His lust and gluttony has made him a mockery and a source of shame to his estranged family. Perhaps that's why little Arthur is so shy; perhaps he is so ashamed it has rendered him mute.

Once I hear the thundering of heavy feet disappear into the night, I step down into the cellar. In the faint light I can only see pockets of light and hear the soft shuddering sigh of a woman regaining herself after weeping. I walk almost in a trance towards that sound, passing row upon row of wine racks and cobwebs. There is not a thought in my head, not one. There is no guilt or shame just the sound of my heart beating in my chest. The room is chilled by the winter weather and damp from where snow has fallen through the barrel grate. Even with the dampness, my mouth runs dry and forbids me to utter a sound. Something within me tells me I have to see her, something deep and primitive. I am anxious yet excited and this only stirs my beating heart on. I stop before the final rack and look through the wine bottles. Under the green tainted glass I can see two fuzzy pairs of legs standing closely under the grate. There are no tears or sobs and one of the girls is missing and all at once I feel something is terribly wrong. The reason I felt a need to come here was I knew they would try and escape, no reason else. Before I could move to stop them, one of the girl's kneels down while the other stands on her back and climes out of the barrel grate. Rusted shut indeed! It was so rusted it had crumbled enough for them to pull the simple lock off. How I had under estimated these girls, I had thought they were nought but hysterical girls! I run out from the rack in a bid to stop the last from escaping...

...Then I see _her_...

She turns to look at me. Her gentle green eyes shining from the tears shed look at me with surprise as she stands not daring to move. Her pale hands are clasped in a bid to hide the rust stains on her palms but I am distracted from that by her beautiful hair is loose and wild cascading down her back. Under the gentle candle light she stands like a statue of Venus or Melusine, with large puddles of melted snow around her. She stands there graceful as a goddess, carefully inspecting me under her long dark lashes. I am utterly transfixed with the beauty before me. I had seen she was a pretty girl before and charming but not like this. She was like a rose that had burst into a glorious bloom and had also awoken something within me. I stand unable to do anything but gawk in silence. She of course knows this and turns away from me and looks up at the grate. As the elfin sister's elegant arms come down to pull her up, she looks over her shoulder at me. She gives me a look as she is pulled up towards freedom. It is a look of muted silence or pity for my sake or perhaps it's is a look of regret. And then she was gone, as quickly as Katherine Nottingham had come into my life she was gone again and I cursed her. Not for escaping or leaving me but for proving me right; that" Love is fleeting and vain and most cruel. You get a taste of love, a small sickeningly sweet teaspoon and you become obsessively addicted to it ". And now I felt a consuming and crushing withdrawal.

* * *

_An: Oh yeah I finally gave you something from Farquaad's perspective. Hooray, I hope it was all in character? In anycase update soon and thank you for all the reviews! oxo sorry for the layout just doesn't let me paragraph :/_


	10. Chapter 10

Katherine's pov

We scramble up and run as fast as we can. Our fine dresses are soaked and clinging to our trembling legs as we flee towards the forest, madly dashing like frightened rabbits to the safety of a warren. We don't dare look back at the castle or the soldiers that must be saddling up to hunt us down. My breathing grows ragged and I scorn myself for wearing a tight stomacher but I don't falter or stop. I must escape no matter what the cost; I will not be hung like my uncle, a traitor to a false king. Then I allow myself to think of that false king. Why did he let me escape? Was it some act of kindness or does he have a more wicked and horrible punishment for me? Will he send his hounds after me? To tear me limb from limb like a fox? Or is there beastly creature waiting in the woodlands? Whatever the case the thought of his face so tender and so enchanted at the sight of me, moves something inside of me to pity. A flicker of remorse or something else...? but I immediately reject it and carry on running. He was a vicious nasty little man that had used me, had made me feel things that were all just a lie! He wanted to anger my uncle and had he not used Elizabeth he would have used me further. Used me like some mindless pawn in a game where only kings and queens matter. I fight against such thoughts; for anger and pity only distract me from running thoughts almost make my legs stop, but i force them onwards. From behind me I can hear Hannah choking on her sobs as she stumbles quickly from the shadow of the castle. The events of the night have been overwhelming, but I don't dare to think or even attempt to anymore. I must have a resolve and will as strong as iron if I am to escape.

We reach the forest but stop abruptly. The forest is guarded by bare jagged thorn bushes . I hesitate, looking at the coiled mesh of sharp jagged thorns. Like a vest of angry vipers, they stand like thousands of rows of dagger like black teeth pointed towards me. But the fluttering of my heart, that feels like a trapped and frantic bat inside my chest, urges me forwards until I can no longer deny it. I panic and stride straight into the throne bush. At first I feel nothing and am relieved that some pity has been spared for us this night. But then as I start to move forwards I feel the little barbs digging into the skin of my legs and tearing through my fine gown. The Thorns feel like needle pricks, unpleasant but not too painful. But I cannot bare the restriction of the thorns. I tried to run but they hold me back as though they are Farquaad's allies. They catch unto my clothing and rip it to shreds as I tried to flee. They catch my dress and my hair, making me curse and kick like a horse being broken. I must be free! I think as I pull my glossy hair from the claw like reach of the branches. Behind me I swear I can hear voices and horses and it only makes me fight more and become more in tangled. I cry out, almost giving up. If I escape the thorns, how much longer will it be before they catch me? But I shake my head. My father was a mere footsoilder and he fought to become a lord. He did not just give in, he overcame the most difficult obstacles and won. Such determination and will flowed in my veins, I could feel it. I dispelled all thoughts of melancholy and put all of my energy into a singular thought ; escape. I winced in pain as my hair was pulled but I kept going, not stopping to free myself, I just kept walking while the branches were dragged off me. The blood was now trailing down my thighs and legs in small thin strips and I felt a single tear of pain roll down my cheek but at least I was free. I sighed, relieved that I i had done it but felt a sudden weighty feeling of weariness. Jen and Hannah emerged from the rows of thorns momentarily afterwards. Their delicate elfin beauty seemed to be highlighted in the moonlight and they seemed to be unharmed by the thorns. It was as though the touch of the thorns, of nature, had replenished their youth and beauty. I found myself staring in wonderment, bedazzled by their supernatural aura. I suppose being back where elves belong had brought out the elf in their heritage. I think they sensed that too, as though they felt safe and secure in the woods, more so then in any palace or castle.

' Where will we go now?' I asked quietly looking around the woods for some sign of safety. Jen shuffled forwards, wrapping a protective arm around Hannah. I pause, Unnerved but this kind gesture.

'We will stay here for the moment. Farquaad won't come looking for us. We're but peasants that hold no worth to him. Once we are rested and feel safe enough to leave, we will head for the nearest town. But you cannot stay with us, Katherine.' She said gravely. I was appalled by this, How dare they abandon me as though all this was my fault! I bit my lip to hold in my rage but had to speak.

'Why would he have anything to do with me? What would he want of me? Nothing! I am but a girl, I hold him no threat to the throne. I may be related to a traitor but you are related to a traitor's whore and acommplice! So don't disguard me because of that!' I spit out venouismly towards them, willing myself to hold my temper. But Their clam blank doll like expressions provoked my temper. How can they be so calm and so cruel after all that we had just went through together?

' Katherine' Hannah piped up, I gave her a warning glance but she chose, foolishly, to carry on. ' You must go and go now. Please . They will kill you for fear if you ever have a son, he will try to claim the throne. ' She said gently, looking up at me with wide gleaming eyes. I turned away from them to stop them from seeing my face crumple into a blur of emotions. I couldn't comprehend tonight. I was grief stricken by the lose of my uncle and witness to a death, I felt confusion over the emotions Farquaad had maliciously stirred up in my breast, I felt betrayal over the sisters' rejection of me and I ultimately felt alone and vulnerable. But I clenched my fists and turned back to face them, my head held high. I could barely look at the beautiful young faces for the angry and hurt they conjured.

'if it must be so then it must be so' I said slowly and calmly before turning away from them. I could hear their tiny velvet clad feet shuffle in the snow behind me as i walked away. Perhaps they were reconsidering? Perhaps they would call me back? I thought hopefully. They never did.

* * *

James Farquaad's POV

I stood there in that musky cellar for a few silent moments as the slow realisation of her escape dawned on me. She had gone and left me with this terrible and painfully longing in my breast. As the blood coursed through my royal veins, so do did the longing until I was overcome and staggering. This sort of all consuming emotion was alien to me; never before had I let anyone or anything (except my ambition) have such an effect on me. It was disorientating and strange but the pangs of longing remained constant and honest. I _need_to see her. But Then I gave myself a sharp slap. By god! This wanton wicked wench had placed some sort of enchantment on me and is playing me like a puppet! For how could I, Lord James Farquaad, be so overcome by a mere girl? Yet I found that I hardly resisted such feelings or even the image of her, dressed in red velevet, standing there in a pool of water. I could not bare the nauseous feeling of uncertainty a moment longer.

'Saddle my horse!'

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Katherine's pov

I walked alone through the woodlands, with only my shadow walked besides me to keep me company. I could understand that I may have endangered them but was it necessary to shunned me so thoughtlessly? I shivered at the thought and the rising night air was chilling and the snow had started to fall again. I paused, looking up towards the star shined so brightly as the snowflakes fell downwards giving me the illisioun that the stars were falling. It filled me with a sense of dazed wonderment that replaced the emptiness i was feeling inside. It was so peaceful and calming. I was surround by just darkness and quiet, not screaming solders or weeping girls. If i could stay warm enough then this would be a perfect hiding place, although that seemed very unlikely. My dress skirt and petticoats were ripped and baring bloodied skin and letting the cold creep up. I was shivering uncontrollably now. But then I hear a sudden loud noise that pierced into the darkness and caused me to jump in alarm. It sounded like some horrible large beast and it wasn't too far away. I decided to move onwards and quickly into the heart of the woods and away from the noise. It was only then did I notice the landscape was scattered with sign posts. How odd I thought, struggling to seem them in the darkness but then foolishly walked into one. I groaned at my carelessness and looked up to see what it said. I gasped in alarm before running away in the opposite direction. It read: _Beware Ogre_.

I ran as faster as I could across the rugged terrain dodging mole holes and plants. I could no longer hear that terrible howl, only the rattling of my breath in my throat. But i had to get away. If farquaad didn't kill me, that certainly would. But my thoughts distracted me and I caught my foot upon a tree root. I came crashing down into the frozen ground, tearing the soft skin of my legs and knocking the wind from my chest. I huddled in the snow, in such a brutal pain. But it was nothing compared to the pain of the rejection at the hands of the Malt Sisters, whom I thought were my friends. But even that was eclipsed by a greater pain; lose. I had not one person in all of Duloc, no family or friend. Not even a home to go to. Where could i go that lord Farquaad could not find me? Who could I trust that would not give me to Farquaad? With a growing sense of dread I came to an awful but necessary conclusion. If I wanted to saved from Farquaad's noose I would have to go to Uther.

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_AN: Dun! dun! dun! what will happen now? Thanks for the reviews! more to come very soon :)_


	11. Chapter 11

I stand in the shadows of the forest, the bitter coldness settling upon my shivering skin like a thin shawl and my poor bare legs become more and more enveloped by the freezing snow. No matter how unpleasant the cruel weather was, It is more kind then I suspected Uther could ever be. Behind his contrived smiles and calious charms, lay not one ounce of compassion for a living thing but himself. Yet in order to escape death at the hands of an even more wicked man, I would have to seek out Uther's help. I know what kind of a man Uther is; he will think that having me makes him better then Farquaad and that will save me. His idoitic egotism will save me from the noose. I shiver from the growing cold and from the thought of Uther's leery very thought of Uther sends waves of revulsion through my body and makes me all the more heistant to move. But I know that I must or I shall surely die from the cold. I wrap my arms around myself and take a breath. The air is painfully pure, like swallowing sharp fragments of broken glass and it makes breathing so very unbarable . I close my eyes and try to find some sort of reason. If I stay in the woods looking for help, the weather will surely kill me. If I return to Farquaad's fortress I could be recaptured and then killed or I could reach Uther and help. But Soilders would be littered about the landscape and posted to watch the castle, making it almost impossibile to reach Uther. But What other option do I really have? I'm faced with the possibilty of death from every angle and have only one real chance of help. I opened my eyes and exhale. This was my only hope. I brush my hair behind my shoulders and push my chin up before trending back towards Farquaad's castle. My heart is sinking with every step and my anxiosness rises with every small movement. Hiding in the darkness and behind the bare trees could be that horrible howling or worse Farquaad's solders waiting for me, So I took great care to hush my breathing and slow down my steps. The only thing that seemed to be deafeningly loud was my pounding pulse as blood surge around my veins in panic. I will it to slow down, fearing it will betray me and alert the solders who no doubt would be looking for me, but I continue to slowly walk back towards the castle, hunched over like a child trying to escape punishment for their mischief. I cannot stop now that I have a chance to escape, I have to indulge that deeply rooted instinct to survive even if it brings me close to danger.I dart behind the nearest scrawny tree, at the distant sound of snow crunching underfoot.I press my tender and wounded back firmly against the scarred wood and hold my breath, listening as carefully and attentively as a fox in a hunt. The crunching grows more consistent falling into a pattern of steady moving feet and draws closer. It's like the base to a dance, and I am sitting waiting with overwhelming fear and anticipation for someone to ask me to dance. Although in this case i would rather that they did not. My hands, trembling from the bitter cold, curl into white knuckled fists waiting to be called into action, as I try and peer around the base of the tree. I pause and smile to see naught but a family of three bears wandering through the moon flooded forest. Their ragged brown fur is speckled with snow and ice and they seem undisturbed by my presence. They are quite a peaceful sweet sight and offer me some momentary relieve. In stead of compromising my situation by over staying my visit, I decide to slowly back away towards the castle instead of getting the attention of the bears. They barely give me a second glance as I walk away, slowly picking up pace as I get further away. They seemed to be more preoccupied at going somewhere else then attacking me, perhaps back to their home maybe? By the time that thought enters my head I am not running in the opposite direction. I do not care about being quiet and stalking, I am running as if the devil himself is after me. I know Uther is only on a visit and should he leave before I return I am doomed. Chances are, he will now that his gluttonous lust won't be satisfied. He'll take to a strop and ride out of Duloc and towards the save haven of Far Far Away and then I will be left, friendless and with a bounty on my head. My sore, frozen feet pound the ground as I dart amongst the frozen foliage, careful not to repeat my trip. The branches smack me as I run and run and run until the Castle's ebony silhouette comes into view. I pause upon a mound over looking the castle, the lowlands and the dreaded thorn only sound in the clear night is the sound of my ragged breath, rattling like dice in my slender throat as I look across the frozen countryside. The fields are barren and cold like corpses, but in the summer they spring to life with garish display of sunflowers. I gave a small smile at the thought, but it faded...Would I die before I ever got to see the sun flowers in bloom?

I hesitated after that thought. I was mere moments from facing death, was I really ready to die? after all, I was only a girl for goodness sake. Would I die before I could be a woman? would I die without ever feeling the touch of a man? Would I die with my maiden head? would I die and end my family tree? would I not live to have children and see them have children? would it hurt to die? I stopped the questioning there. I could not think such things, I have to be like an animal. Unthinking but objective, living only by my wits and desire to survive. But I am so scared. Despite my fear, I clench my fists together and march down into the thorns, my emerald eyes fixed upon the dark foreboding castle ignoring the pain and discomfort. I briskly walk into the coiling thorn bushes, I suck in the cold air and push my chin up. The thorns dig and claw at my battered and bruised skin as I walk towards the castle. Leaving fresh droplets of crimson blood upon the virgin snow as strips of red Velvet are torn from my dress. No matter what, I have to do this; For I am Nottingham and I do not want to be the last.


	12. Chapter 12

I still my breathe as I creep into the Castle's dark shadows. Any sudden movement or noise could destroy my chances entirely. The closer I get the more tempted to become gallant I am yet my unwavering wits bade me. I pause every couple of yards to listen out for any sound until I am at last returned to the open rusty grate. My hands, so frozen can barely grip the crumbling bars let alone support me. As I lower myself down into the cellar my brittle cold hands give way sending me tumbling down into the cellar with a loud and winding thud. Wincing in pain I quickly sprint behind a wine rack, fearing that someone has heard my intrusion. This gives me the opportunity to breathe fully, even though the air is thick with damp and dust. I refrain from coughing as best I can and muffle any that escape while peering around the rack's dusty frame. No one. Slowly and uncertainly I creep towards the little staircase and the doorway, my wet little feet patting the dusty ground as quietly as a cats as I get closer and closer. I pause as my hands press against the old wooden door listening for any noise on the other side. Once again not a single sound. The silence sends a jolt of relief around my body which is very quickly eclipsed by great sense of cation.I pry the door open, cringing as it creaked and moaned as i did so before darting out behind the nearest pillar in the foyer. The foyer lay empty which came as a surprise. Perhaps everyone was looking in the woods after all? I think as I dare to climb up the great staircase and towards the west wing. I'm so close to his room now I dare to run, my feet slapping the stone floor as I run towards the room and throw myself in the door.

Uther's room is warm and dimly lit with few flickering candles. There are fistfuls of golden jewellery and rings scattered across the chest of drawers and desk, some have even fallen to the floor and i take care not to tread on them. Such disregard for priceless jewels, throwing them to the floor but then I notice that he has thrown bejewelled doublets and expensive hoses to the floor too. Satin gowns, heavy golden belts, damask bed clothes and riding habits are cast around the room, there's even an embroidered chair laying wounded on it's side. I feel a deep pang of dread, had Farquaad arrested him too? it looked like something violent took place here. In the centre of the lavishly decorated yet messy room was a dozen silk pillows, knocked over goblets of red wine and grapes. Clearly he had prepared for Jen's arrival. I heard a sound crash from the balcony and jump with fright, Although I was still edging through the debris towards it. The sound is echoed by a gruff cough before Uther stumbled into the room. He was dressed in the most exquisite house coat I had ever seen. Embroidered with great dragons and tall curving trees set against a glistening rich purple silk. Royal silk to be exact. I see him frown in surprise before giving me a lecherous scan of my body. I blush with embarrassment at my tattered clothes and practically bare legs, feeling ashamed and nude under his gaze.

'Mistress Katherine, What's happened to you girl?' He asked slowly advancing towards me. His voice is warm with a note of piqued interest, but not the shock or surprise I would have expected.

'Milord, you must take me with you to Far Far Away. I need to leave Duloc, please I'm begging you' I say imploringly but not beggingly. This man had poisoned me and tried to forcefully seduce Hannah, I would not lower myself to beg him, not even if my life depended on it. I watched Carefully as Uther paused for thought before circling me. I shiver as the air around me shifts and is now saturated by the smell of perspiration and wine as he, in the most revolting way, inspects me. I can feel those leery eyes over my skin as though they are clawing across leaving gaping bleeding wounds. He stops behind me. I can barely breathe as the silence and sudden stillness is unbearable. I do not have time for such games, I must escape. But then I feel his hand, trailing across my bare neck. I suddenly stiffened up as though I had been shot, I was seized by fear and revulsion that would have made me retch had i not been so immobilised.

'I am sure there is something that can be done to arrange such a journey...' He said in a lowly purr of a voice, petting my bare tingling neck. I remained silent, all my bravery and determination had shrivelled and in their stead there now was a great sense of vulnerability. Uther's free hand groped it's way around my midriff until it clamped down across my breast, squeezing it like he was milking a cow. I pulled away, frightened and angered by such a lude gesture. I would not be free with favors to win my freedom, I am no whore. But Uther likewise grew angry, grabbing me by the throat and throwing me down unto the pillows. I scrambled trying to push myself up from the floor but sliding on the glossy cool silk as Uther's great bulky weight crashed down on me, pinning me to the floor. He pinned my arms to the ground as my legs kicked and pounded against the floor's cool stone slabs and had his knees parrell to my hips and thighs. I hissed and screamed for all it was worth, I didn't care if it meant I was arrest and hung, I would rather died then let Uther deflower me.

'Help!' I yelled in such a guttural and desperate shrill scream, anyone with compassion would wince at such a wretched sound. Uther did not, he seemed irked by such a noise but proceeded to place his thin lips against my throbbing neck with such lurid passion and greed. The feeling of those greasy stinking lips hungrily trailing on my skin made me scream and cry out all the more, wriggling furiously under his weight. Oh god, what if no one could hear me because they were out in the forest? I thought with sudden panic and raising despair. My uncle was to hang, His lover and child were dead, I had been abandoned by my last remaining family and now I was going to be raped. None of that was in any of the fairy tales. No, at a time like this a handsome knight would rescue the girl from the wicked claws of the filthy beast. I doubted that would happen as I lay on the floor being assulted by the horrible wet kisses while screaming all for nought.

But then the most wonderful and miraculas thing happened, Uther's chamber door swung upon. Help at last! surely they wouldn't leave me here with Uther? they mustn't, I reasoned as I screamed ;  
'Help me!'

Whoever was at the doorway did not move, making me feel even more disheartened and weaker. Would no one help me? But they quickly recovered their wits and seized Uther, dragging him off me. I scurried quickly away from uther, cowering like some whipped dog as I looked upon my savior. It could not be! I gasped ; It was Farquaad!  
Uther frowned as he stumbled to his feet, insulted by Farquaad's intrusions.

'Farquaad, What is the meaning of this? I never would have guessed you were a voyer. I find it quite rude.' Uther said with an air of arrogance. Farquaad looked back calmly at him, though his square jaw was clenched tightly as were his velvet clad hands.

'Uther' He began ' Please leave here, We have nothing more to discuss.'

' Very well, but the girl is coming with me. She asked to come to Far Far Away.' Uther said rather proudly. I sat watching the scene, cringing as he brought up my plea for freedom and used it against me. Farquaad flashed a glance at me before looking back up at stood defiantly, certain that he would win the argument.

' Be that as it may, She is still my ward and thus I am her guardian and I say she will not go. Are we understood, milord?' Farquaad asked, his voice laced with authority and sternness which needless to say took me and Uther back. Uther pouted and frowned, Before sighing letting his great belly sag.

'I'll have my servant fetch my things.' Uther said sulkily as he waddled out of the room. Not before looking back into the room and giving me the most filth and resentful look I have ever seen in my life. I relaxed as he left, thankful I had come to no harm before fully realising that my chances of escape were over as Farquaad himself had me cornered and ready for arrest. Dread returned and flooded my senses as I watched Farquaad very stood watching Uther leave the room before silently walking towards me. He frowned, looking at my bruised and battered legs through the strips of ruined velvet and petticoats.

'Did he hurt you?' He asked softly, much softer then I could ever imagine him ever speaking. It was shocking yet comforting but the dread and anger cast away such pleasant feelings.  
'No but you will, You'll string me up because I'm related to my uncle; the murderer.' I say bitterly, Not showing any gratitude for his kindness. I was resentful and cruel, but so was he in my eyes. I could see that I had upset his pride or his feelings as He looked confused and hurt by my venomous comment. He looked away, ashamed by what a wretched state I looked and my anger. 'No, I will not hurt you... You are...' He sighed loudly, as though any fight or anger he felt left him. I was intrigued by how quiet and humble he seemed, I had always thought him arrogant and haughty until now. He was like a completely different person. ' You are my ward. I'm here to look after you.' I looked up at him. What had changed him so? was it the guilt finally catching up with him or was it something else? I did not have the energy to think about much had happened in the last few hours, that my mind struggled to catch up or even function properly. The only thought in my head as my anger mellowed was why? why was he doing this?

_

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_

_James Farquaad POV_

I send her to bed, the poor girl is terribly shaken by Uther's depravity. Even though she is quite exhausted by the days events, I daren't trust her. She would have fled had I not had her escorted by two servants. She did not resist as they led her away but she gave me a long cold look, her wonderful emerald eyes so hollow that it sent shivers down my spine. What if I had been a moment too late? what then? The thought is vulgar just to think about. Despite me saving her from such an awful fate, she still hates me. I doubt I could even beg for her forgiveness. I could only hope that one day she would hate me less for what I had to do.

I wait until I am certain that she would be sleeping before venturing to her little room. The servants sit outside the doorway and bow their heads obediently as I approach and entered the darkened little room. In the four post bed I can see her tear stained face resting against the pillow, her brown curls cast across the soft pillow like a silky strips of ribbon. She is sleeping soundly, sleep has at last brought her sweet solace. As I get closer towards the bed, with great sadness, I admire her resting beauty. She is truly magnificent as she sleeps. Regal and statuesque like a bust of some pagan goddess. I bend down until I am inches away from her face, so much so I can smell the lavender from her hair. I close my eyes letting myself be enveloped by the smell entirely but curse myself for such foolishness. I then place a tender kiss upon her soft rosebud like lips.

'Forgive me for what I have done and what I must do'


	13. Chapter 13

**James Farquaad's pov**

She remains sealed up in her chambers for days, forlornly Standing besides the window or curled up in her bed, silent and grim as a ghost. She has stopped eating too, Although I can see the pained expression of hunger on her face as she is presented with food. She is refusing to eat out of stubbornness or suspicion that I will lace the food with arsenic, so she goes without and suffers as her stomach screams for food. Yet i can do nothing to comfort or encourage her to drag herself out of such defiance and melancholy. Seeing her so besides herself worries me. Katherine Nottingham despite being a woman (the more emotional sex) would normally not give into petty emotions, she is normally ruled by reason and good sense. I have seen it and she proved it only days ago when she fled the castle and returned without being detected. Yet here she is; silent and downcast, overcome with some sort of despair. It frustrates me that I cannot do anything at all to help. Then again I haven't dared approach her room since that night, in fear of what she would say or do. So in my absence I station two guards at her door, grant her two servants to wait on her and the remainder of the guards to patrol around the grounds. however sad or weak she is, I know she would try to escape given the chance. They all try to coax her to eat or even speak but to no avail. It is a sad state of affairs.

In the absence of any communication, I live in hope. I move into the study closest to her bedchamber, meaning that there is only a single wall between us, so that, if she stirred or made a sound I would hear her. Despite my diligence to seeing her improve, there is work to be done. I publish an account of what happened here for all of duloc to know. That Nottingham paraded his whore about before my guests before insulting my honor and name, He then lunged at me with a knife before slaying his whore and bastard. That is all they need know. With Nottingham gone, I am one step closer to the throne which is rightfully mine. Yet this good news is soured by Mistress Nottingham's displeasure. I pause, reclining in my chair. Behind the wall I can hear one of Katherine's maids speaking in a pleasant tone, accompanied with silence and the faint sound of disturbed water. She is bathing again, now an almost obsessive behavior. I think she finds some sort of solace as the warm waters encompasseth her thinning frame, I cannot deny her such a comfort even if it worries me. So I sit at my desk, my plans for my succession and the changes I will make to Duloc before me as I listen to the sound of her bathing.

My closest friend and commander of my small army ; Ivon, comes marching, In that brisk ungraceful manner all soilders do, into my study.

'What is it Ivon?' I ask, my mind still focused on the faint trickle of water behind the stone wall.

' It's Lord Nottingham, He's gone quite mad. He won't eat, he simply howls and weeps all day and all night. Perhaps it's best to end his suffering and show everyone how mad he is. Flaunt him in public then give him a public execution so all can see that he was mad and killed his whore and that you are truly the only one fit to rule.' he replied loyally. But listening to him and his concerns, I find an idea in what he has said. a Positively marvelous idea!

'Is he feeble and dumb with madness?' I ask with a smile growing across my handsome face. Ivon, the dear fool, is uneased by my question but would not deny me an answer.

' Quite so, He can barely look after himself.'

' Well then, we shall let him go and live out the rest of his miserable life under house arrest.' I say nonchalantly

' I must protest mi-lord. He is a threat to your crown. If you realise him it makes you look weak and more so, it leaves room for another impostor to rule through him as a puppet king!' I find myself laughing which proves irksome for the impassioned Ivon. Ivon is a solider and thinks of life as a constant battle, filled with strategies and danger. He doesn't care for appearances or deception like myself.

' Ivon, Do not think I don't know what I am doing. You shall see very soon the benefits of freeing him. Now I want you to buy a cottage in the middle of nowhere and take him there. Have furniture and food and fresh clothes waiting for him. Bathe him too. You shall stay there with him for three days before I shall visit. Make sure you and your men are out of sight. Do you understand?'

'Not entirely but I'm sure you'll enlighten me when you think the time is right.' Ivon replied diplomatically. I nod before waving my hand in a shooing motion.

'Now go, There is much to be done. Notify me once the house is bought and where and when you are there and then i shall come pay a visit.'

' Milord' Ivon said giving a deep bow before turning on his heels and quickly walking out of the study to fulfill his mission. I sit and watch him go noticing, not for the first time, how obedient and loyal he is. But I only muse on this for a moment before I quickly scrabbled to find my quill and parchment. Like a young boy eager to impress my father, I quickly scribble across the parchment filled with a strange hopefulness. Once I finish, I sit back in my chair. A Contented smile planted across my face. The reception to my letter, would determine the future of myself, Duloc and the Nottinghams.

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AN: Sorry for taking so long, Still I can say all this depressing melancholy is almost over! hooray!


	14. Chapter 14

_Katherine's POV_

The beads of cold water rolled down my bare goosepimpled shoulder as I tucked my bruised knees under my chin and stared into space. Every aspect of my life now lay in tatters and there was nothing i could do to change it, not that I had the will to do it in anycase. For the first time in my life I felt so self pitying and alone that I simply gave up. Farquuad decided to be merciful and tactful and left me be. No doubt taking extreme pleasure in seeing me as his prisoner once again. How ironic that he once called me Mistress Field mouse and now I was as vunerable and doomed as a mouse caught in his trap? I bowed my head from the shame of it all, pressing my burning temple against my damp knees. Across the room I heard the sound of heavy footfall and then little rattle followed by silence. Had I not been so dispondent I know that my heart would have stopped in fear of any approaching noise and what that would entail. But as it was, I simpley rolled my head to the side nonchalantly. Pushed cutly under my door was a small piece of parchment. curiously it bore no wax seal or anything else that would render it a death warrent. I looked away from it trying not to acknowledge it. But the knowledge that it was there was irksome and hard to ignore until I could not bare ingnoring it any further. I briskly rose from the small wash basin; shivering from the sudden coldness while heavy droplets of water tumbled down from me into the basin in a disjointed medley. I took a step onto the cold floor and grabbed an elegant night gown to clothe myself before walking cautiously towards the doorway leaving behind me a trail of wet footprints against the stone. It was a scrap piece of parchment, shoved under the doorway without any consideration of my rank (or atleast my old rank as a lady). I couldn't help but feel haughty at such an insult but I had to quell such feelings as I turned the parchment over to read the still wet ink;

_Mistress Katherine,_

_As your gurdian and as your host, I request an audience with you in the sitting room ajaysant to my office this afternoon. I have some news that concerns you. Be there._

_- Lord James Farquaad_

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_**AN:** oh my! it's been a LONG time hasn't it? well I've decided to deicate some time to finishing this fanfic! so expect to see many updates soon. But in the meantime, what will happen? Does Farquaad have good news or is he going to have her executed...?_


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